


The Voyage

by dustkeeper



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Based off Agent of Shield's Framework!AU, In which Ignis doesn't realize he's been pining, M/M, Married!Ignoct, Messing with the lore?, The Crystal is Weird, Virtual Reality, endgame spoilers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2018-12-08 13:22:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 36,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11647431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustkeeper/pseuds/dustkeeper
Summary: Lunafreya bargained with the gods for one last gift for the Chosen King: a glimpse of a happy life. Stuck in the Crystal with false memories of a normal, blissful life in Insomnia, the Astrals cannot awaken Noctis, who has lived a lie for almost ten years while his friends survive the World of Ruin.Ignis is sent in to retrieve the sleeping King, but how can he tear his King away when he himself doesn't want to leave?





	1. have you heard?

**Author's Note:**

> So, the latest Agents of Shield arc had the characters' minds linked up to an alternate reality in which their greatest regrets were fixed. What if this is what happened in the Crystal to Noctis? 
> 
> I'm rusty with fic writing, completely new to writing FFXV fic, and a ridiculously slow poster. I have no idea what I'm writing. Proceed with caution.  
> The title/chapter titles are based off the Moody Blue's "Have You Heard," which was used in the montage showing off the Framework in the TV show.

                Of all the things Ignis was prepared to live without, the sun had never even occurred to him as an option. He remembered first setting out in the Regalia with Gladio's expensive camping equipment in the trunk, dreading the first time they'd be without indoor plumbing at a haven. He had often feared the day when Ebony would stop being produced. Things like the sun, the stars, the grass beneath his feet, they'd always be there ̶ or so he'd thought. He never imagined the sun suddenly disappearing without little a trace, despite a vaguely-prophesied darkness.

                _Or Noct_.

                But nine years had passed too quickly. It wasn't as if he could actually see the calendar, anyway. Perhaps they'd all had the date wrong. It'd been tricky to keep everyone's clocks synced after the eternal darkness fell.

                 Their King was still alive. Somewhere... Somehow. They could still summon their weapons from his armiger; Ignis could still feel the bond that linked them all together. Not just their weapons, but their very souls. They had assumed he'd been sucked into the crystal somehow, but their months of searching and research found no part of the prophecy that told them when he'd return. He'd had a vision all those years ago at the Altar of the Tidemother, an older king with a tired determination set in the wrinkles under his eyes, but Ignis hadn't been informed he wouldn't age beside them in Lucis. They clung to the knowledge that he _had_ to return in order to fulfill the parts of the prophecy they knew: the Chosen King would restore the light and defeat the scourge.

                He'd wondered, of course, what Noctis could possibly be doing for nine years. Gathering strength from the crystal to fight Ardyn, most likely, although the musical training montage Prompto had once suggested had probably not come to pass. Still, he was surprised at just how long the astrals had made them wait. Ignis found himself wondering if the years had been as long and grueling to the Chosen King in whatever astral realm he was stowed away in. How similarly did time pass in another dimension? Had the decade been mere seconds to their missing friend?

                "Uh, Iggy? Are you putting garlic in the pastry on purpose?"

                Ignis' hand froze in the air. Oh. How embarrassing. It wasn't as though his hands couldn't tell the difference between his array of ingredients after all these years cooking without sight, but he seemed to have gone into some sort of autopilot in his thoughts.

                "Would you believe me if I said that it's a new recipe?" he asked Prompto, putting the garlic back in the cabinet.

                The blond chuckled. "Serious answer? I'll taste anything you make, no questions asked. Your cooking just keeps getting better. You'd make garula-flavored ice cream taste good."

                Ignis smiled down at his ruined batter. He never said it to Prompto, but he'd always admired how he remained so bright and kind in the years of darkness. "Flattery will get you everywhere. However, I'm afraid I'll need to redo the whole thing at this point," he admitted with a sigh.

                Ingredients were not something to waste in days of food rationing, but given it was a special occasion, he couldn't imagine anyone getting too angry about it. Even Gladio, who had gotten surprisingly strict when it came to food conservation. It could be the suspiciously large amount of time spent with biologist Dr. Sania Yeagre, who led the conservation efforts in both fauna and flora from her lab in Lestallum. It could also have stemmed from the traumatic day when the man realized Cup Noodles would no longer be produced in a post-apocalyptic environment; he'd probably saved up half the remaining stock for himself, and still managed to have one or two a month years later. Sania once said that if he were to devote this sort of effort into stopping the starscourge, they would have brought the sun back quite a while ago.

                Prompto's train of thought seemed to go in the same direction. "I won't tell Gladio if you don't. Or, we could make his from this batter and see if he notices."

                "It's what Noct would have wanted," Ignis agreed lightheartedly, the words slipping out without his even realizing it. The two fell into a somber silence. The cook discarded the ruined mix so he could start the recipe again. "What did you get him this year?"

                "Huh? Oh, yeah. It's kinda lame, but a couple weeks ago on a hunt, I found this old film in the ruins of Old Lestallum. Noct and I had watched it the night before finals after cramming geometry for hours. We'd finally given up learning anything new and switched the TV on whatever channel, and there was this terribly inaccurate documentary on King Regis' first year as king. Like, it was next level _bad_."

                Ignis could imagine. He'd only seen one recent documentary on the line of Lucis, and he'd turned it off fifteen minutes in due to its comical inaccuracy. It wasn't as though the monarchy had been open to filming crews or more than a handful of reporters for special occasions, but surely such a dedicated crew could come up with _something_ believable in their project.

                "We watched the whole thing, making fun of it while Noct kept pointing out all the little inaccuracies - like, 'Dad wouldn't have eaten a banana for breakfast, he's allergic!' Or 'Please tell me Dad never wore pants like that.'" Prompto chuckled. "It was two of the funniest hours of my life, and when I saw it in the MoogleMart, scratched up but still, you know, intact, I just had to get it! I mean, it's not like we'd be able to watch it or anything, but…"

                Ignis understood. A precious memory between two close friends. Either of them would have given anything to have just a short laugh  over an inside joke from years ago with their prince, to see that small wry smile as he teased them over an embarrassing memory.

                "A suitable gift. It's a wonder you managed to find a copy at all." Ignis reached for a spoon to mix the new batter. "The discs not lost to daemons were most likely destroyed by the filmmakers themselves."

                "Man," Prompto sighed. "After everything we've been through, Noct better have a hilariously bad movie made about him."

                "Wouldn't we be depicted in the film, as well? Are you certain you want to take that risk?"

                "Nah, I'd be played by some gorgeous A-lister on the cover of a sports magazine, obviously. And we'd get creative input so Noct's kids won't be laughing at _his_ pants."

                The advisor forced a laugh, though the phrase "Noct's kids" echoed through his mind. He'd always figured Noctis would someday make a good father, kind and attentive, if a little irresponsible. Talcott still remembered him not as the Crown Prince, but as an older brother figure who never thought himself too cool to play Cactaurs with him whenever he'd visited. Ignis had always imagined with a smile an older Noct teaching a young boy with his messy black hair how to fish.

                For some reason, it'd always been hard for Ignis to imagine Noct married, even as they initially drove out to see him to his wedding. The prince had never shown much of an outward interest in romance aside from one or two brief crushes in high school.  He'd blush a little at their teasing about the wedding or even the notebook, but otherwise appeared more interested in taking stray cats home than romantic partners. Gladio had dubbed him the Crown Prince of Cats, saying they were more likely to get a pet for an heir than a person from his Highness.

                Still, Ignis wondered what it would be like if Noct hadn't been missing this past decade. Would there already be an heir living in the Citadel, if he'd been able to wed Lady Lunafreya? Would he have wanted to marry someone else? Would the child have his blue eyes, or the eyes of his mother?

                "What about yours?" Prompto asked. "What did you get Noct this year?"

                Ignis felt for the holes in the cooking tray, pouring the batter in. "Nothing as special, I'm afraid. Simply another fishing rod to add to his extensive collection."  As far as he knew, at least. He could have gotten  him an oddly-shaped selfie-stick, for all he could see.

                "Hey, it's what he likes! Besides, you're also making an awesome dessert,  so you automatically  win at gift-giving this year. I'm surprised he doesn't burst out of the crystal just to snatch one up."

                If only.

                "If he did, I'd punch him," Gladio said from the doorway. "Serves him right for making us wait nine years for him to work up an appetite."

                "Ah, but then returning the dawn would be a _piece of cake_."

                Ignis heard two exasperated groans in response.

-

                Prompto, of course, had been the one to suggest hosting Noctis' birthday parties in Hammerhead for the past eight years, although the guest of honor had never attended. It was their way of bringing everyone back together at least once a year, reminiscing about days in the sun and hoping for a brighter future ̶ both literally and metaphorically. Meeting up frequently became difficult when there was always a job for each of their unique talents in the world shrouded by darkness. It was nice to hear everyone's voices again, however weary they had become over the months. Ignis wondered if it were better that he couldn't see the new scars and bruises added each year, much more their fake smiles and distant gazes.

                Gladio brought Iris and Talcott, Cor had never missed a gathering, and even Aranea flew Biggs and Wedge down for the annual reunion. Sometimes other friends the Crown Prince had made during his travels stopped by. It was particularly amusing to hear Navyth's incredulous response to finding out "Noct Gar" was actually Noctis Lucis Caelum. He wished Noct had been there, if only because it had really been his secret to tell.

                After long hours of sharing stories and catching up, Gladio, Prompto, and Ignis would use King Regis' old boat to sail to Angelgard, where the Crystal had mysteriously appeared shortly after the events at Zegnautus Keep. The shared stories tended to become more personal; oftentimes, there would be long periods of thoughtful silence. He'd never asked the others for their perspective, but Ignis liked to think he could sense Noct slumbering in the Crystal, his magic flowing out its familiar warmth.

                Eventually, Gladio stood and went to turn the motor on. He was always the first to get up. He couldn't see, but he knew that the Shield's jaw was clenched in fury. The longer he sat by the Crystal, the more he hated that he'd failed as his guard, that he couldn't stop Ardyn or the Crystal or whole Empire from taking everything. He'd never be strong enough in his own eyes.

                As if it were his fault. No one could have predicted this. The prophecies hadn't mentioned Noctis would be sleeping in his family's Crystal for such a long time.

                "Hey, Prompto! Something's up with the motor!" Gladio shouted.

                "Be there in a jiffy!" Prompto patted a hand on Ignis' shoulder before jogging over to investigate the boat further down the island.

                Ignis took advantage of his momentary privacy, reaching a gloved hand up to rest on the Crystal.

                "You were always a terrible person to go gift-shopping for," he mumbled. "What to get the man who, quite literally, had everything. Every video game, every fishing rod, every pair of socks. You'd think, after all our lives, I'd be better at giving you something new."

                They'd had their annual stargazing escapades, reminiscent of when Ignis used to help the young prince sneak out of the Citadel on nights even Carbuncle couldn't help him sleep soundly. Somewhere along the years, it'd gone from an escape from nightmares to an adventure, the two eventually old enough for Ignis to drive them to their destination. The advisor was the one who had made them holiday excursions when he failed to think of a suitable birthday or Christmas gift the second year in the row. They would slip out, just the two of them, a container of sweets Ignis baked shared between them as they named any constellation they could find -- often, Noctis making up absurd names for them when he couldn't remember the proper ones.

                _"Shoot. It's not like I haven't read that book for_ years. _Is that Titan's belt or Bahamut's?"_

_"That depends on which astral wears a belt in the first place, I suppose."_

_"I don't even think they wear pants. That's probably Titan's ballsack."_

_"Noct…_ "

                " _Who named these constellations anyway?"_

                "Can't exactly take you stargazing in the Crystal," Ignis mused. "Not like I could see them anyway."

                Not like the stars were even there to look at, anymore. The darkness had taken them, too. Ignis wondered how much more it would take before even artificial light vanished.

                Still, he supposed, it was the thought that really counted.

                There was a chill in the air. It was always cold in the endless night, but the sudden drop of temperature was not normal. He knew she was there before he heard her voice.

                "The Chosen King sees a different set of stars."

                "Lady Gentiana," he acknowledged, "or should I say Lady Shiva? To what do we owe the pleasure?"

                The less respectful "you'd better be bringing news about Noct or you shouldn't have come at all" hung unsaid, but he expected she got the message.

                "The Chosen King remains in the Crystal too long. Neither Astrals nor Oracle can wake him from his dream," she said.

                Ignis frowned. He was grateful she cut to the point, but the point in question was rather vague. "He's dreaming?"

                "Asleep from the truth, in a world crafted from the Crystal's power as it strengthens his spirit. The Oracle insisted upon this gift to a dear friend: a life without regrets, however brief."

                The advisor took a moment to make out the meaning of her words. "A world crafted by the Crystal? Without regrets?" He could imagine plenty of regrets the young king might have: the early death of his father, of Lady Lunafreya, of Insomnia as a whole. "Are you saying he is in a version of Lucis in which the Crown City never fell?"

                She nodded. "The grief of the King of the Stone was great, but his happiness is greater.  The magic that has prepared him for his purpose has become his weakness. He has forgotten his true life, surrounded by shallow reflections under a false sun."

                So, Noctis wouldn't leave the world without regrets and forgot all about the trauma he'd went through in reality. Ignis could hardly blame him. He'd half a mind to let him be, blissful in his ignorance, but it remained a dire situation for those stuck in the real Lucis. "Then how will we bring him out?"

                "The King's True Heart is the only one who could persuade him. The advisor must cross over and assume his place at his king's side."

                Him? "You want me to enter the Crystal and convince him to leave? Why me?"

                Was it even possible   ̶ least of all _proper_ ̶ for him, an outsider to the Lucis bloodline, to be drawn into the Crystal's power? He'd had to give his sight to use the Ring of the Luci'i: what sacrifice would he have to make to literally enter the Crystal? What about the sacrifices Noctis would have to make in _leaving_ the Crystal? He was still trying to wrap his head around this new capability of the Crystal in the first place. In all the records he'd had access to, this was unprecedented.

                She smiled. "It is your duty, is it not? The king should listen to his advisor."

                _Tell that to millions of uneaten vegetables._ In any case, Ignis hardly felt prepared for such a task. Of course he'd help Noct, but he needed more information. "What do I tell him? How do we get out?"

                "You will know. The proof will lie in his heart, in the memories that he buried. The world is linked to his spirit. He is the key to its lock."

                The strategist realized with dismay that indirect poetry was the only resource he'd gain from the messenger. He had no idea what he was walking into: what this other Lucis was like, what _Noctis_ was like after all these years. It both frightened and thrilled him. He was going to meet Noctis again. He was going to be able to touch him, to have proof outside a summoned dagger that his oldest friend was alive.

                Perhaps, most frightening of all to consider, was that the Chosen King was relying on Ignis to drag him into this world of despair and darkness. The one who'd been hoarding the knowledge from a vision all these years, praying it was not set in fate or that he'd merely understood it wrong, having to lead his oldest friend from a safe illusion to that terrible reality? How could Noctis ever forgive him? Much more, how could Noctis ever forgive him if he _didn't_ help him escape, if he had the power to save the world and was stopped from doing so?

                Therefore, no matter what he couldn't expect from this new mission, Ignis would do anything to retrieve Noctis from the Crystal and help his friends in the darkness. He'd do anything just to hear Noct's voice again, to be honest. And so, Ignis found himself   ̶ pun unintended   ̶ diving in blind against his usual instincts.

                "When do we start?"

-

                Minutes later, Gladio and Prompto panicked when they could not find Ignis by the Crystal.

                In another realm, Ignis Scientia opened both his eyes.


	2. now you know how nice it feels

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignis wakes up in the Crystal's reality and quickly realizes some crucial details were left out of Shiva's explanation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm really nervous and excited about posting this one aaaahhhh!! I was going to add another scene or two to it, but decided that if I don't post it now I'll edit it again another thousand times. I tried really hard to get into Ignis' head with this one, so I hope my hard work shows. I have the next chapters (and the ultimate end) planned out, but they may be slow coming. Thanks to everyone who has read, kudos'd, and reviewed! I really appreciate it!

                For the first time in more than nine years, Ignis opened both his eyes. Much more, he opened his eyes to _color_ , and shapes, and sunlight streaming in from open windows. His vision was a tad blurry - like it'd been without his glasses long ago - but he could make out the texture of the white ceiling and the gaudy black and gold ceiling fan reminiscent of Noctis's old Citadel room. It was odd, to say the least. His left eye opened as effortlessly as it had before Altissia, as if he'd never been scarred and blind at all.

                He hadn't, he supposed, in this life. As the initial shock of seeing frazzled his mind - astrals, how happy he was to see a plain white ceiling - he remembered just why he was able to see in the first place.

                A life with no regrets. No Altissia, no imperial fleets swooping in amongst the rubble, no _blindness_. He wasn't sure how to feel. It was like a very vivid dream.

                Of course he'd always wanted to see again. He didn't want to see the ruins and rubble Eos had become, necessarily, but he enjoyed being able to see once more in his blurry dreams some nights. He wanted to see Gladio's tattoo again and find out if the "soul patch" Prompto had grown was truly as hideous as it sounded. He wanted to be able to see Noct when he returned, to see how and if he'd grown over a decade. Would he look like Regis, he'd wondered, straining to make his memory of a twenty year-old Noctis as detailed as he could remember. (There was the briefest of glimpses he was given of an older Noct, head tossed about in agony as celestial swords pierced his chest-)

                But this wasn't _real_ , was it? This regret had only a temporary fix. To rid the rest of the world of darkness, Ignis would have to yet again take it upon himself. He had grown so used to being blind he didn't think it would be that difficult to let sight go once more. It'd only been a minute, but Ignis knew he could never have been more wrong.

                He was underneath soft black covers - like Noct's old bed, he recalled - and his foot rested on something jarringly harder than sheets but with a similar smoothness. Another person's leg. Ignis turned his head on its left side to see who and sucked in a deep and shuddering breath.

                _Noctis_. It was Noctis lying beside him, lips parted as he drooled on a black pillow. His dark hair was slightly longer than it had been, fanned around his angular face. One arm was under the pillow and was likely going to be numb when he woke. The other was stretched between them as if reaching out for Ignis. He grabbed that hand slowly and gently; it was solid. He was holding Noct's hand again after years and years of yearning to. He stroked it with his thumb.

                Ignis found himself crying, embarrassingly enough. The servant to the Crown had never cried easily. It wasn't just the royal protocol and training to keep his emotions under wraps, but Ignis had always been a private person, striving to keep others from seeing his pain. Now, he suspected the intense reality of not only seeing for the first time in a decade but seeing his beloved friend after just as long was good enough reason to cry. It was the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen: Noct alive and performing his infamous hobby of sleeping, of all things. The Disc of Cauthess could only hope to be as majestic, the Crown City paling in comparison to its Crown. He turned on his side to inch a little closer. Noctis was warm and safe and…

                And… oh.

                He was naked. Good heavens, they were _both_ naked. In bed. Together. They were naked in bed together with only inches between them. Presumably, they had at one point during the previous night consented to sharing a bed completely nude.

                No matter how many times Ignis phrased this truth, it couldn't fully register in his mind. It was unexpected, to say the least. He couldn't believe it had taken so long for him to notice, given his… well. Best not to dwell on that. He was used to waking up in the same bed as Noctis when the situation called for it, be it the months of camping and motel rooms throughout their journey or even childhood sleepovers, but never before had they engaged in… _that_.

                Oh, goodness. He needed to clear his head. He let go of Noctis' hand and slowly sat up, careful to not wake his companion.  Maybe he sat up too quickly, because his head was spinning as he reached for the end table where he figured his glasses were.

                His fingers brushed against a smaller metal object. He hesitated before finding his glasses a little further down. They looked just like his old pairs had. Ignis wiped tears away from his eyes before placing his spectacles on his nose. The world came into sharper focus, and Ignis was once again stunned by all the colors and shapes he could see again. It was enough to momentarily distract him from the bare body sleeping next to  him until he spotted what exactly had been next to his glasses.

                A ring. The breath was stolen from his mouth as he brought the jewelry up to his eyes. Gold, with a small red gemstone. Something was inscribed on the inside…

                Ignis read his first word after regaining sight: _Always_.

                " _You've got my back?"_

                His vision blurred, and he had to take his glasses right back off to drag a hand across his eyes.

                They were _married_. He was holding his wedding ring in one hand and his glasses in the other. Not only did he have sight in this life - in this perfect world crafted by the Crystal for Noct - but he had a husband. A beautiful husband he never expected could care for him in _this_ way, especially not in a life without regrets…

                Goodness, would he ever stop _crying_? He wasn't sad. It was all just a shock.

                It wasn't that he didn't find Noct attractive - it'd always been quite the opposite, honestly. But Ignis had always known the prince would eventually have to marry politically,  and it was improper for an advisor and a king to be together in that fashion, so he stomped any romantic thoughts down whenever they appeared. He never let himself admire Noct as anything more than a close friend, which in turn was what he assumed Noctis felt for him. Brothers, as Cid had once called them, though the term never felt right when it came to Ignis' affection for his charge.

                This was probably why. Noct had wanted to marry him, to share his bed, and Ignis felt so many emotions in response to this he was _bursting_.

                It took a long moment of trembling breaths before he figured he should leave the room, lest Noctis woke up and wondered why his husband - his _husband_! - was having a breakdown. He stood, feeling exposed. All right… goodness, last night's act was apparently the result of spontaneous passion, given the trail of clothes from the doorway. He put his glasses back on to investigate: it was a weird experience to not recognize your own underwear. He tended to prefer briefs, and he remembered boxers from Noct's old laundry. Those gray sweatpants looked like something he would wear and they were around his size. Ignis crouched down to separate them and suddenly remembered what else he was holding.

                Was it wrong for him to wear the ring? It was his, but they weren't _really_ married, and he didn't want to take advantage of Noct somehow. He didn't want it to hurt more when he inevitably tore him away from this fantasy life.

                Or would it hurt him more if he didn't wear it? If Noctis saw his bare hand and thought he didn't care for him in that way…

                Best to wear it for now, for the purpose of blending in, at least. Right. And it was gorgeous, something Ignis wouldn't mind wearing someday should he get married, and it fit him _perfectly_ …

                What had he gotten himself into? What had _Gentiana_ gotten him into? She hadn't even warned him of any of this. What else had she not told him?

                His feet were cold against the laminate floor as he snuck out the bedroom into a hallway. It led to a cozy combined living and kitchen area that was clean enough for Ignis to be living there and cluttered enough to feel like home to Noctis. As he leaned against the wall to try and calm his racing heart, he eyed the large up-to-date kitchen longingly: it would have been marvelous to be able to cook here every day. Although, even the cabinets were painted black, true to royal tradition. Framed photographs and colorful knickknacks thankfully made the rooms feel less like a black hole of despair. The Royal Family needed a less morbid color when it was reinstated, especially when the real Eos was now permanently sick of darkness.

                There were tall glass windows that offered a beautiful view of morning Insomnia, and Ignis wandered over to gawk at the sun peeking over the horizon. The Crystal spared no amount of detail, from the glittering skyscrapers to the warmth of the sun, and it made the decade of darkness feel like a horrible, long dream. They must have been in a penthouse, around the area of Noct's old apartment complex from high school. He would have suspected that the prince would have moved back into the Citadel. Was he still Crown Prince in this world?

                He was, it seemed. There was a large photo of Noctis and Regis together on the far wall, decked out in traditional royal garb. Ignis had to do a double-take at how young and happy they both looked. It couldn't have been taken too long ago, as Noctis was clearly older than twenty, but King Regis looked younger than he ever had to Ignis, as though he wasn't carrying the weight of the Wall and Ring on his hand. There were fewer wrinkles in his smile as he proudly held his son's shoulder.

                There were more pictures, some on the wall and some set on tables around the living area. A few of them Ignis actually recognized from his and Noct's real apartments, featuring them growing up in the Citadel. Their childhoods must have been the same then. Others were new but held familiar faces: the four of them together, like the photos Prompto took during their journey, only they were posing in front of Insomnia backdrops. A selfie of Noct and Prompto - he didn't have a goatee in this picture, and Ignis was guiltily relieved - another of Ignis sitting on Gladio while he did one-handed pushups. He let out a laugh at that one, and then another at a picture of him, Noctis, and Prompto wearing silly sunglasses. He wondered what the others would say if he replaced his visor with those moogle glasses when he went back to being blind.

                But most of the pictures were of Ignis and Noct together. Holding hands, cuddling on the couch, kissing; in each of them they looked passionately and happily in love. Ignis wondered if he had ever looked that happy in real life. He wondered if Noctis had ever looked at him that way before and he just never noticed.

                Wedding pictures. Of course there would be some around. He picked one up from their display by the couch. It was a group shot, Noctis and Ignis dressed smartly in regal raiment among their family and friends. Prompto, Gladio, Iris, Lady Lunafreya, Regis, and even his late uncle were all accounted for. Everyone looked happy to be there, none more than the two grooms themselves.

                Ignis had never humored any possibility of marrying Noctis for several reasons, but as he surveyed the life they'd apparently made for themselves in this cozy penthouse filled to the brim with memories of them laughing and grinning, he let himself ponder such a life, if only for a moment.

                He'd be happy, he thought. He was thrilled to see him after so long without him, though absence probably made the heart grow fonder. He knew that they had had their rough patches, particularly when Noct was a teenager, and the prince had plenty of faults and irritating habits. But he was kind and brave and silly and his best friend ever since they were children, and he had always been a constant source of support and joy in the advisor's life. He was also handsome, as Ignis had taken note of this morning waking beside him. The very thought made his cheeks burn.

                 Ignis had only been on one date since Insomnia fell, a "blind" date in every sense of the word. It was three years after Gralea, and Prompto had set him up with another hunter, hoping Ignis could find a source of happiness amongst the misery their world had become. The man was nice and very flattering, but it felt wrong. Not the right match. Ignis was far from heartbroken over it, however. He had no time to be romancing someone with all his responsibilities over the ruins of Lucis. He was lonely sometimes, especially when the others went their own ways and they didn't speak as often as they'd used to, but he had become suitably independent after everything he went through. He missed the way things used to be. He missed Noctis. But he marched ever onward.

                He was picky when it came to suitors, anyway. He'd imagine most people would be turned off by the scarring and the blindness, and he wasn't going to settle for whoever saw past those things if he wasn't madly in love with them. He wasn't Prompto, who fell in love with anyone who looked at him the right way, although his infatuation with Cindy had never faded. His duty always came first, too, even if his king wasn't around to serve in person.

                Arms suddenly wrapped around his waist, and Ignis jumped.

                "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you," Noctis said, placing his chin on his bare shoulder. "I love that picture."

                "N-Noctis," Ignis sputtered. He hadn't heard him come in, and he still had no idea what he could possibly say to the man after nine years. Especially since it hadn't been nine years for him, and they were married, and he suspected that Noctis hadn't retrieved his clothes from the floor.

                "I know, it's shocking." He sounded amused. "I actually woke up this early the morning after my birthday. Especially after you kept me up so late."

                Ignis felt his lips on his neck and panicked, wrenching himself out of the king's embrace. "I… Sorry."

                He turned to look at Noct, who admittedly looked a little hurt, and felt like he was seeing him again for the very first time. His hair didn't stick up in the back like it used to, but it was messy from having just rolled out of bed. His eyes were as blue as he remembered them being. His abs looked more pronounced than he remembered…

                "You okay, Specs?"

                Ignis opened his mouth to assure him he was fine, but all that came out was a feeble, "You're naked."

                "Yeah, and I gotta say for a man who helped me take my clothes off, you're making me feel self-conscious about it," Noct joked, but he still looked concerned. "But seriously, are you sick? You're super red." He reached out to place a hand on Ignis' forehead. "Maybe you shouldn't go to lunch today."

                "Lunch?"

                "With Luna. Remember?" At Ignis' blank stare, the king chuckled nervously. "Yeah, you should sit down."

                He gently led him over to a leather couch. "Stay there. I'll go cover up my sickening naked body." Noctis quirked a good-natured smile at him before heading for the hallway. A moment later he called back, "I mean it! Don't move!"

                Ignis wouldn't have been able to move if he wanted to. He sat there, stunned, neck still tingling from Noct's kiss. He was aware he should be saying something to Noctis in response to it, in response to the situation with the Crystal, but his brain seemed to have forgotten what words meant.

                A light blanket was dropped around his shoulders with a kiss to the top of his head. A warmth spread from Ignis' chest, but he didn't think it was from the fabric. "You have coffee yet, babe?" Noctis asked as he walked to the kitchen.

                Babe? Were they the sort of couple to use such terms of endearment? "No," Ignis managed to answer. It was becoming a bit hot in the penthouse for a blanket, but he didn't dare remove it, in case he offended Noctis again.

                There was a period of silence during which Noct was presumably using the coffee machine. His head having cleared a little, Ignis turned his head to assure him, "Apologies. I'm quite all right. Just a bit tired."

                "If you say so," was the unconvinced response. "I meant what I said about lunch, though. I know yesterday's party was kinda exhausting. Luna would understand."

                "No, it would be a pleasure to see her." Given that he was never able to meet her face-to-face before she died. Were the two of them friends in this life? Ignis realized he was still holding the photo from earlier. She'd obviously been very present at the wedding.

                Noctis was handing a steaming mug of coffee to him. Ignis accepted it, eyes meeting the fully clothed Noctis. He had chosen his outfit from the floor, too.

                "Thank you… babe." Oh, gods. That was awkward.

                Noctis thought so too, laughing as he flopped down beside him on the couch. He held up his coffee cup and did a decent imitation of Ignis' accent, "Anytime, love."

                So Ignis didn't call Noct babe. Good to know. He smiled as the other man inched closer until their arms were touching. Oh, it _was_ good to see Noct again, initial awkwardness aside. It was wonderful to hear his voice. "Remind me of our other plans today?"

                "No royal plans other than a diplomatic lunch with the Oracle, thankfully. It's weird having two days off in a row. Though I still have some reports I need to look over by tomorrow."

                Hmm. So Noct worked often.

                "I promised Prompto we'd swing by his exhibit on the way to lunch, but maybe we should stop by a drugstore, too, if you're not feeling well." Noctis wasn't going to let his odd behavior go that easily. He checked Ignis' forehead again. "Is this warm? I'm not as good at the sick thing as you are."

                Ignis frowned. "I feel fine. I was just… distracted, earlier." Which was true: it was getting hard to keep a level head with all this new information. He took his first sip of the coffee Noctis had handed him and let out an embarrassing moan of pleasure. "Gods, this is delicious." The coffee they rationed during the scourge did its job, but it was hardly Ebony. This, on the other hand, tasted like _coffee_. Oh, this _was_ a better world.

                A chuckle. "You're such a dork."

                Noct looked at him with such fondness Ignis had to avert his gaze. He focused on drinking the coffee, ears pink.

                "You need me to whip up some breakfast? My milk-to-cereal ratio causes that kind of  response, too," the prince teased.

                As tempting as that offer was, Ignis' excitement at his situation only grew with the idea of cooking. They had a kitchen most likely stocked with _real food_ , no rations, which he could not only utilize but _see_. He placed the empty mug on the coffee table and stood. "Let me at that kitchen. I believe I have an omelet recipe perfect for the occasion."

                "You certainly have me _egg_ cited about it."

                Ignis stopped to stare at Noctis, incredulous. Then, before he even realized what he was doing, his arms were wrapped around Noct in a tight embrace. His friend was startled, but returned the hug immediately. "What's up with you today?"

                "I'm just… so happy you're here, Noct." That's he's alive, that he's in his arms. "I'm _egg_ static."

                "I think it's cheating if you use the same word," Noctis pointed out, running a hand down his back.

                "Touch- _egg_."

                He laughed, holding Ignis' cheeks in his hands as their noses met. "I love you, too, you _egg_ cellent pun master."

                Noctis pecked him on the mouth, a brief but sweet kiss, and Ignis' very first in his new relationship. Ignis didn't flinch away like he had before. Instead, as Noctis left the couch to take their coffee mugs to the kitchen, he lightly pressed his fingers to his lips. _Love_. Ignis' head and heart were both hurricanes of emotions at this point, but he didn't care. The one thing he knew for certain was that Noct was just in his arms, alive and well and _happy_ , and that was the one thing that mattered to him.


	3. scatter good seed in the fields

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignis realizes just how lifelike the fake Insomnia is as he struggles to pretend nothing's amiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reasons why this chapter has taken so long:  
> 1\. I live in Houston, and while my house was thankfully intact, my sister's was flooded. Having two extra people and six extra pets over has been a bit stressful.  
> 2\. I'm a perfectionist.  
> 3\. I was having too much fun inserting Loud Annoying references.
> 
> I hope this chapter is worth the wait! Thank you all again for your comments, kudos, and bookmarks!

                Breakfast was an awkward affair.

                Ignis had to "relearn" where everything was in the kitchen without arousing too much suspicion, especially since Noctis was still eying him like he was going break into a fever at any second. It didn't help that his cheeks were abnormally pink: Ignis never thought himself one to be easily flustered, but he'd also never considered himself a viable love interest for the Crown Prince of Lucis, either. It was strange, feeling his gaze on the back of his head, knowing that they'd just kissed, that last night they had according to Noctis… _Goodness, Scientia. Heat the omelet, not your… omelet._ Good gods, he was turning into Prompto.

                In all fairness to Noctis' wary gaze, Ignis had to consciously restrain himself from staring right back at the man he hadn't seen ̶ literally or figuratively  ̶ for almost ten years. It was… well, it was as refreshing as being able to drink as much Ebony coffee as he wanted after so long. Once he started drinking Noct in, he couldn't sate his thirst. As a friend, first and foremost, no matter what they were now. He had few memories before Noctis, and losing him had been just as disorienting as losing his sight.

                Noct was pouring out second cups of coffee for the both of them as Ignis reveled in preparing a meal with working eyes. Truthfully, it wasn't as different in practice as one with sight might assume, but presentation was something he hadn't the option of working on accurately since Altissia. Purposefully placing a bit of lettuce on one side with a strip of Gighee ham on the other was enough to spark a creative fire he hadn't realized he missed. This was hardly the most aesthetically pleasing omelet the cook had ever made, but he was still pleased with the process. Besides, Noct had never been picky about what food looked like, as long as it wasn't too green.

                He'd never been that attentive to shaving, either, Ignis was reminded as he recalled the stubble that'd brushed his chin.

                Noctis had placed their refilled cups of coffee on the island counter, pulling up a stool while he waited for breakfast. Ignis served him his portion of omelet from the other side. The thought of sitting on the stool right next to Noctis made him nervous, though he wasn't sure what exactly he worried would happen. What would happen? What was their morning routine?

                Everything was new and terrifying. He felt like… He felt like a teenager  ̶  which was odd, because he'd hardly felt so much like a teenager when he'd actually been a teenager.

                The prince immediately dug in. "Smells good, Specs."

                "Thank you." Ignis smiled. It _did_ smell good. Tasted good, too. Was this real food, giving nourishment to their real bodies? Was Gentiana literal when she said Noctis was dreaming? Was this world truly completely fake?

                He couldn't think like that, at least right now, when he was already so confused about everything. Instead, he should really try to glean more information about this world the Crystal had fashioned, in case he should be caught unaware again. Yes, a logical plan.

                What did he know so far? They were married. Noctis was still Crown Prince. Yesterday had been his birthday…

                "Did you have a nice birthday?" he inquired, managing to return to his usual controlled tone despite the storm in his head.

                Noctis swallowed a piece of omelet before responding, "Mm. Yeah. It was nice, not too crazy. I'm glad Dad just let you and the guys plan the party instead of hosting one at the Citadel like he used to."

                "For a prince, you never were one for crowds, were you?" his advisor mused.

                "Thankfully, our apartment's not _that_ big," Noctis said. "If one more person showed up, I would have kicked them out."

                "Even if they brought you a present?"

                "Well, I would have taken the present, said 'thank you,' and _then_ kicked them out. A prince has gotta have manners."

                Ignis' lips twitched. This was the Noct he remembered. "You certainly are the Prince of Propriety."

                "Damn straight. I learned from the best." Noctis raised an eyebrow at him.

                He chuckled. "Glad to know something stuck after all those lessons. I always thought you were just doodling stick figures in your notes."

                "I multi-tasked."

                "I must say it was impressive: I'd never pictured how one could draw abs on a stick person."

                "Well, you can't draw Gladio without them, even in stick form," Noctis argued. "Just like you can't draw Specs without his specs."

                "I suppose not." Some things, it seemed, would never change. They must have shared a similar childhood in this reality. It would have been easy to pretend they were catching up in real life, except… "How is your father faring, by the way?"

                "Busy as always." Noctis frowned down at the piece of lettuce on his plate. He lifted it to his mouth, scrunched up his face, and swallowed it like he'd eaten a bug instead of a vegetable. Still, Ignis was pleasantly surprised. "A lot of meetings with Cor and the Crownsguard recently, I think."

                That could only mean one problem. "Niflheim?"

                "What? No. _That_ ended a long time ago, thankfully, and the Republic of Niflheim is literally the exact opposite of how the Empire used to be."

                Ignis tried to hide his shock behind his coffee mug. The _Republic of Niflheim_? Of course, it gave a hint as to why Insomnia had never fallen in this reality. Yet it was difficult to imagine how that could have come to pass. They'd been hunting down straggling MTs for years after the darkness fell, rummaging for supplies through spacious imperial bases. An army that large didn't surrender easily.

                "They're just working on some new program to help hunters across Lucis.  An old Kingsglaive member from Galahd came a few weeks ago and suggested it. I think it had something to do with a training regime, or deployed Crownsguard ̶ I don't know. I try not to talk politics too long with Dad, or he'll bring the _thing_ up again, you know."

                Ignis did not know, actually, but given how Noctis spoke those words, he thought it best to not ask.

                "How's your uncle doing?" Noctis asked, finishing the last of his breakfast.

                The sudden change of topic disoriented him, as well as the reminder that his uncle was _alive_ here. "He… He's fine." As far as he assumed, although anything was "fine" in comparison to dead.

                "Tell him thanks again for all the help yesterday. I heard he helped Dad move some appointments around so he could make it last night."

                "He was simply doing his job." Ignis' uncle had been one of King Regis' advisors and one of the reasons Ignis wanted to pursue his career as chamberlain to the prince. The other reason was a small boy who begged him to help recreate the Citadel with a plastic building block set  ̶ a feat that had taken a whole week and left his exasperated six year-old self realizing the younger boy needed all the advising he could get.

                "I guess the only downside of marrying a future king is that you'll be moving your own appointments, too," Noctis pointed out. "As if you didn't already have enough work to do."

                "A small sacrifice," he said honestly. "I would be at your side either way."

                The playful atmosphere fell somber at Ignis' sincere admission. He felt a bit embarrassed, actually ̶ he hadn't meant to suddenly turn so heartfelt  ̶ but the way Noct ducked his head a little was endearing. He had gone from the bold lover from earlier to a familiar sheepish _Noct_ that he had missed for so long.

                "Always so serious." Noctis chuckled. "You're gonna be a great king someday, Specs."

                Ignis didn't know how to respond to that, picking up their fake dishes to wash them with fake water in their fake sink.

 

-

                According to the leather notebook so much like the ones Ignis used to have before Altissia, their lunch with the Oracle was scheduled for 11:30. He had listed some more items in the schedule beneath, but they'd been crossed out, presumably by Noctis if the uncharacteristic smiley face at the bottom was any indication. He must have rescheduled some meetings or appointments ̶ the strange "day off" that Noctis had mentioned earlier.

                The contrast between the apartment here and his one in Lestallum made him feel like he was visiting a spa. He could have used as much hot water as he wished to, having access to all the products he used to before the road trip. He was reluctant to admit that he still hoarded plenty of beauty supplies in the darkness; he was a vain man who enjoyed styling his own hair and smelling nice even when camping. The disconnect between realities was clear, however, in how simply _nice_ everything was.

                The advisor was wearing his suspenders and dress shirt for the first time in years, the real clothes having been torn beyond repair in daemon fights years ago, and Noctis also dressed smartly in the raiment his father used to wear to informal events. The look suited him. He'd always wanted Noct to wear more suits, to be honest ̶ because it was proper for a prince to look nice, of course. Goodness, he needed to find the thermostat ̶

                "Ready?" Noctis asked, offering a ring of keys.

                Ignis hesitated. "How about you drive us there today? A late birthday gift."

                He snorted. "Yeah, you only let me take the wheel on special occasions. You do realize I haven't gotten into an accident in years?"

                "You've effectively assuaged my fears with your reminder," Ignis said dryly, following an amused prince out the front door.

                As much as he wanted to drive a car again, the prince's chamberlain had only a vague idea of which roads to take to get to the gallery, and he feared asking Noctis to relay directions would make him suspicious. Noctis took the steering wheel with hopefully more expertise than he had ten years prior, and Ignis was able to enjoy the sights as they wove their way through the heartbreakingly familiar metropolis. They _were_ in the same apartment complex Noctis used to inhabit, with the same light marble walls and the dirty concrete parking garage, and the Bank of Spira three blocks away where Gladio almost got punched for flirting with the security guard. Noctis had the same contentedness with silence as he once had, as well, which allowed him to stare out the window in peace. Even the steady roar of car engines and the faint thump of the bass in a nearby truck were strikingly nostalgic, and Ignis felt like he was suddenly back in college, riding with Noct as he practiced for his driving test.

                Ignis hadn't visited the Lucian Archaeological and Visual Arts Gallery often when the real Crown City still stood. The paintings and photographs were beautiful, of course, but one was hardly in want of fine art when raised in the Citadel. The archaeological and historical findings were a point of study throughout Ignis' schooling, but he rarely took time out of his busy schedule to admire their beauty in person. Far as he was concerned, the old stiffs in the council meetings had been enough archaeological study to last him a lifetime.

                As he strolled hand-in-hand with Noctis through the numerous exhibits, Ignis found himself admiring detail, but not out of a passion for art. He marveled at how _real_ every element of the Crystal's world seemed to be. It was one thing to be in a living room with the one other real person, and another to watch an unrecognizable single mother argue on the phone with a credit card company while helplessly attempting to corral two elementary-aged sons.

                " ̶ was the first of twenty-seven paintings in tribute to the Oracles by Regulus Chacia, beginning with the second recorded Oracle in Eos' history, Juliana Nox Fleuret ̶" a tour guide explained to a small cluster of students.

                " ̶ the movie starts at 3:15, I think," one teenage girl whispered to another by a marble sculpture of Shiva. "We could totally skip study hall to go, Mr. Mittelman wouldn't notice ̶" 

                " ̶ just came out on the new Kwehstation 5," a young boy told his dad, who was gesturing for him to lower his voice in the gallery. "It's the sequel to the one that came out three years ago ̶"

                "Man, Prompto must be freaking out by now. He's never had a whole exhibit to himself like this," Noctis said with a smile.

                A whole exhibit just for Prompto's photography. Ignis could imagine both a twenty year-old Prompto and a thirty year-old Prompto being simultaneously ecstatic and terrified at such an opportunity. He felt a bit of brotherly pride swell up before he forcibly reminded himself that this wasn't _actually_ his close friend. The Crystal may have created a convincing copy of Insomnia and its numerable civilians, but his friend was one-of-a-kind. Whatever cruel experiments of Verstael Besithia the man had originated from, he had worked hard to become his own person, unrecognizable amongst the empty shells he was made to become.

                His artistic eye was definitely cream of the crop, and as believable as it was that he'd someday procure an entire exhibit for his work, this wouldn't be _Prompto's_ work.

                "He certainly deserves it," Ignis said, thinking of the Prompto who had replaced his camera with a gun and his dark room with Hammerhead's repair garage.

                Prompto's exhibit appeared to take up a corner of the modern art room and was bustling with appreciative art lovers. According to the sign they'd spotted at the entrance, Prompto's series of photographs was called "Liberatio," but Ignis wasn't sure what it entailed. He could make out photos of people, all with an apparent olive green filter. The pictures were all carefully framed both in execution and presentation, but the common theme tying them together was unclear. It seemed like a series of people doing everyday tasks: cleaning, shopping, cooking, sitting, smiling, laughing. Ignis didn't recognize the backdrops for most of them, aside from that a few were taken in apartments and shops.

                He would have studied each of them more closely, but Noctis nudged him and gestured to the familiar blond man in the center of the room. From afar, it was the same Prompto of ten years before, complete with styled hair and absentminded hands drumming on his jeans. He wore a black button-down t-shirt, which was different than the vests he recalled, and something about his ensemble felt like it was missing, but the bright smile he sent them when he turned around was very Prompto. He'd barely aged a bit, it seemed. Ignis felt himself smiling back: another face he was glad to be able to see again, if only for a bit.

                "Your Highnesses," Prompto greeted as they walked closer, performing a flamboyant bow. "Enjoying your date at the museum?"

                Noctis rolled his eyes and shoved his friend's shoulder playfully, smiling softly. "Can't believe a dork like you took all these photos."

                "I know! It's insane!" the photographer squealed. He leaned in as if sharing a closely-guarded secret, and Ignis could make out his freckles and the lines around his face that could only come with age. "People keep asking me questions, but I've forgotten everything I know about cameras! I don't even remember taking any of these pictures! I'm dying here!"

                "Just keep saying words like 'lens' or 'tripod' or 'pointy-shooty button,'" Noct suggested.

                "That's if I can actually get out _words_. Come on, Mr. Public Speaker! Help me out here!"

                "What do you even need to say? They're pictures: you just look at them!"

                It was like having a very vivid dream of the two's high school days, when they'd lounge on the couch studying biology flashcards while Ignis cooked dinner from the kitchen. But they were older, and Noct's hair was longer, and Prompto sounded so genuine in his happiness that Ignis couldn't help but compare it to the forced enthusiasm of their conversation in Hammerhead's kitchen.  He had to remind himself this wasn't real: he had to pretend it was on the outside, but he couldn't let himself abandon reason and believe it.

                "It's certainly an impressive exhibit, Prompto," Ignis complimented, feeling that he had gone too long without saying anything. "You've… done well for yourself here."

                "Thanks, Iggy!" Prompto's shoulders relaxed, as if  his compliment had lifted an invisible weight. "I really appreciate you guys stopping by."

                "Have you seen Gladio yet?" Noctis asked. "He texted me he was running late earlier."

                Ignis realized with a jolt that not only had he not seen Gladio, but he'd yet to notice any sort of security for two princes wandering a public building. He wondered if this should worry him. In truth, he'd gotten so used to the four of them taking care of themselves that he'd forgotten how stifling public appearances with Noct could feel long ago. Most likely, there were some undercover Crownsguard in their midst, like there'd been at the store the prince had worked at after high school.

                "Nah. He's probably still trying to get Daisy's pants on or something," Prompto answered.

                Pants? Daisy? Gladio? Ignis' mind scrambled for any sort of explanation to such a bizarre sentence.

                "In that case, he'll be, what, another two hours?" Noctis deadpanned.

                "Poor guy. War hero defeated by little girl. Oh, how the mighty have fallen!" Prompto lamented.

                "Speak of the daemon…" Noct pointed at the imposing man weaving his way through a high school tour group.

                "Excuse me… sorry…" The memorable gruff voice followed the shield's accidental elbowing of a frightened teenager.

                Gladio hadn't changed a bit aside from maybe becoming even _more_ muscular. He'd let his hair grow into a ponytail, but the scar on his eye was just as Ignis had recalled. He smiled warmly as he neared their group.

                "There he is! The man of the hour!" Gladio bellowed, rushing over to noogie a protesting Prompto. "Sorry I'm late. Daisy wanted to wear pajamas to daycare."

                Noctis raised an eyebrow at Ignis, amused that the group was right on target with their prediction. Ignis tried to mask his coming to terms with the realization Daisy was most likely Gladio's daughter, which made him a _father_ in this reality. Good heavens. He hoped he was feeding the child more than cup noodles.

                Gladio let go of Prompto to retrieve his phone from his pocket, giving the shorter man opportunity to hastily readjust his hairstyle, and presented a blurry photo of a young brunette no older than five in a moogle onesie and chocobo slippers. "See? She never wants to wear normal shoes anymore."

                "I thought we all came here to see _Prompto's_  pictures," Noctis said, although he smiled fondly at the sight.

                "Awww, but she's so cute!" Prompto cooed. "I'm glad she likes the slippers I bought her."

                Of course it would be Prompto who'd buy her the chocobo slippers.

                Gladio put the phone away. "Diana told me to ask you for some adult-sized ones. She can barely walk on her feet nowadays. Which reminds me: if you were a kid in school, would _you_ make fun of someone named Peony?"

                Ignis stared, hoping this was a glitch in the Crystal. Prompto looked like he was trying to come up with a polite objection. Noctis wrinkled his nose. "Definitely don't call your baby that."

                Gladio cursed under his breath. "We're running out of good flower names here."

                "Snapdragon would be a kick-ass name," the prince suggested. "I wouldn't make fun of a kid called that."

                Despite how asinine this conversation was, especially considering the truth of the whole situation, Ignis couldn't help but interject, "Or there are the traditional human names of Rose, Lily…"

                "My cousin's Rose, and we know a Lily who works in the accounting department. It'd be weird."

                "You could branch out into plants?" Prompto offered. Ignis wondered if the pun was intentional, but was either way impressed.

                "Yeah." Noctis added playfully, "How about Mary Jane?"

                His shield just glared.

                "Anyway," Prompto thankfully changed the topic, "thanks for making it here today."

                "Wouldn't miss it, kid," he responded. "I've been excited to see the finished products. Iris' girlfriend said you got a good shot of her and her old Kingsglaive buddies."

                "Yeah, over there ̶ " The photographer lifted an arm to point at a photo on the far wall, and Ignis suddenly realized what was missing from Prompto's apparel.

                "Prompto," Ignis said cautiously, "your wrist."

                "Huh? What about it?" Prompto glanced down at one wrist, then the other, and then back at Ignis inquisitively. It looked as though he hadn't even noticed the infamous mark was there.

                Ignis opened his mouth to tell him to cover the barcode up and faltered. He wasn't sure what to say. If the Prompto of this realm had no qualms about openly showcasing his Magitek origins, then Ignis certainly had no intentions of bringing even more attention to it. It had never mattered to _him_ , except for how much his friend loathed having it branded on his arm, and he supposed it must not matter to anyone else in the room. Maybe this world's Lucis had a much less hostile view of Niflheim and its MTs. With how nonchalant Noctis had acted when he found out about Prompto's identity, it would be a plausible regret he'd have.

                "I think he's talking about your tattoo," Noct clarified. "It's not exactly business casual."

                "Oh. No one cares." Prompto shrugged. "They didn't even make me wear dress pants. They'd be more worried about Gladio's tattoos than mine."

                "Hey!" Gladio huffed. "These are the mark of the King's Shield, the Amicitia clan ̶"

                "Still not good enough of an excuse to never wear shirts, big guy," Noctis teased, despite Gladio's black t-shirt under his jacket.

                "Yeah! Getting kinda old for that now, right?" Prompto added with a grin. "What are you, forty?"

                "Says the man who still styles his hair like a chocobo butt," Gladio countered, crossing his arms.

                "Wha? My hair is stylish! It does _not_ look like a chocobo butt!"

                "It does, too."

                "Children," Ignis reprimanded, fondly exasperated as heads began to turn toward their loud bickering, "behave. We are in a prestigious art gallery among renowned artistry."

                "Aww, Iggy! You're making me blush!" At Ignis' hard stare, Prompto quietly added, "Yes, sir."

                "Sorry, Mom," Gladio chimed in.

                There was a short pause when the other three glanced at Noctis, who suddenly sported a devilish grin. "Yes, Daddy."

                Ignis reddened as both Prompto and Gladio let out synchronous scandalized cries and flailed their arms, recoiling in horror. Noctis laughed, a sound so precious and unusual to Ignis that he forgot what he was embarrassed about, appreciating the way his blue eyes crinkled.

                A nearby elderly lady shushed them loudly as she shuffled past. The sudden hush that fell over them in response was reminiscent of when he and Noctis made too much noise outside conference rooms in the Citadel when they were younger.

                Prompto shot a halfhearted glare at the prince. "I can't believe you're going to get me kicked out of my own exhibit!" he whisper-screamed.

                "Should have worn the dress pants. Maybe they'd make you look more mature."

                Ignis couldn't remember the last time he'd smiled so much. The banter was just like old times, reminiscent of campfires and caravans and car rides across Leide.

                _It's not real._ A voice in his head reminded him forcefully. _They're not real_. _The real Gladio and Prompto are back at Angelgard, most likely warding off daemons in the eternal night._

They were probably worried sick, actually, Ignis realized with growing horror. He hadn't taken the time to inform them of Gentiana's plan. They had no idea where he was or what he was doing. Was his body even still there, or had it been sucked into the Crystal alongside Noct's? How much time had already passed?

                Gods, what was he doing? He was letting himself get so sucked into the illusion, looking at pictures of nonexistent people taken by replicas of his friends, and he had barely considered what to say to the one other real person who was the only one who could save the real world. He'd let himself become distracted by thoughts of marriage and apartments and happiness, when his friends were counting on him. Noctis was counting on him to set him straight, as an advisor and a friend. He had to say something ̶ anything ̶ before too much more time had passed…

                Noct's hand returned to his with a gentle squeeze. His shoulder brushed his and Ignis felt himself release a deep breath he'd been holding.

                Right. He shouldn't panic. He'd play along with Noctis until they found a moment alone.

                "Come on, Iggy. Let's start looking over here."

                He was pulled toward a photo of a woman staring out the window, the soft smile on her face reflected over the front of a shop advertising Galahdian meat skewers. There was an quote under the picture: " _My friends and I used to eat here when we worked in the Kingsglaive. We'd talk about going home when the war was over, but we never thought it'd end. We were going to die on the battlefield, we thought, and if the war ended we wouldn't be there to see it."_

-

                The Citadel had several smaller dining rooms intended for intimate meals with visiting dignitaries and other esteemed guests. Ignis himself had never been invited to such a dinner: the prince's chamberlain was hardly important enough to warrant a seat at the table. The prince consort, however, was expected to be there.

                Ignis tried to convince himself that his nerves were uncalled for: the real Oracle was dead. If he were to forget his etiquette training here, there would be no real repercussions nor shame to be felt. Still, he wasn't only dining with the Oracle and Princess of Tenebrae, he was technically dining with the prince's cherished childhood friend. Even if it wasn't the real Lunafreya, the likenesses of Gladio and Prompto convinced him that the Crystal truly had paid attention to the details of the people in this place, and she'd most likely react how Lunafreya would have reacted. The need to make a good impression nagged at his subconscious as he followed Noctis into the room.

                Lunafreya Nox Fleuret was as stunning as she'd been in news segments and newspaper photos, wearing a simple yet elegant white dress and braided blonde hair wrapped behind her head. She was sitting at a small table next to a man whose face Ignis felt he should remember, their seats close together. Her face lit up in a genuine smile upon seeing them enter the room, and she stood to welcome Noctis with a hug.

                "Happy birthday, dear Noctis," she greeted.

                "Thanks, Luna," Noct returned the embrace, peering over her shoulder at the man. "Nice to see you again, Nyx."

                Nyx. That's right: he was a glaive, the one who'd once helped Ignis work on his dagger throwing and sometimes drove Noctis across town. Nyx Ulric, the "hero" of the Kingsglaive, as Gladio had gushed during the summer he'd fancied the kukri wielder who "warped circles around the princess."

                "Your Highness," Nyx acknowledged with a smirk, nodding his head in a small bow. "Nice to see you, too. Been keeping him out of trouble, Scientia?"

                Oh. They were on friendly terms, it seemed. "I'm trying to," Ignis replied pleasantly.

                Lunafreya pulled away from Noctis to smile at Ignis. "It is a wonder you've kept him in one piece for so long, Ignis. He's reached thirty."

                "I can take care of myself," Noct protested weakly. "Tell them, Iggy!"

                "Well, he did brew the coffee this morning all by himself," his husband offered, partially in jest and partially because he had little idea of how well Noctis _had_ been caring for himself all these years.

                "The future king has promise," Nyx joked. Ignis wondered if he should be offended on Noctis' behalf by the way he nonchalantly joked about the prince, but the way everyone smiled gave the impression they were all close friends. Though, he wondered what Nyx was doing there. The Kingsglaive had apparently been disbanded, but it didn't explain his presence with Lady Lunafreya, especially since they seemed to interact as equals. The obvious assumption would be lovers. A strange pairing, to say the least. Had they even met in real life?

                "I'm sorry we couldn't make the party last night," Luna said. "We flew in late from Lestallum."

                "It's fine. I'm glad you're here now. I hope you haven't been waiting long." Noctis sat across from her, Ignis taking the last remaining chair on his right.

                "No, not at all." A servant arrived to pour wine in their glasses, and Lunafreya thanked him quietly before focusing her attention on Noctis. "How was your birthday?"

                "It was good. Quiet, thankfully. I think the reporters have gotten bored over the years," the prince speculated.

                "I did see a lovely photo of the two of you having lunch at a hotel yesterday."

                "Oh, yeah, the Leville. That's where Iggy proposed," Noctis explained nonchalantly.

                Ignis choked so hard on his wine that Noct reached over to pat his back. He waved a gloved hand, trying to regain his composure.

                "Are you all right, Ignis?" Luna inquired.

                "Sorry. Yes… swallowed the wrong way, I'm afraid," Ignis assured her quickly. "Don't mind me. You were saying?"

                Noctis kept his hand on Ignis' back as he continued, "Well, it was where _I_ was going to propose, because I thought he never would. Then he totally stole my thunder."

                "Really?" Luna's eyes darted between Noctis and Ignis. "I don't know if you've ever told me this story."

                "I haven't? Oh, man, it was about two years after we started dating. There was a festival going on, so I booked a private room at the restaurant that had a really good view of the fireworks. Ignis kept talking about how much he liked the nebula salmon there, anyway. I went to Gladio and Prompto, asking for them to help plan everything. It turns out Ignis also went straight to them and was all, 'Do you think he'll say yes if I propose there?'"

                Nyx shook his head. "Unbelievable."

                "I know! They didn't want to ruin either of our surprises, so they just kept quiet and helped both of us. We both ended up thinking we planned the same flower arrangements and romantic music  ̶' _our_ song,' you know, super mushy. I think we were both miffed that the other one didn't look surprised." Noctis smiled over at Ignis, who stared back, completely entranced by the story.

                "What's your song?"

                When Noctis didn't answer Luna immediately, Ignis realized she was asking _him_. "Oh. Err… it's…"

                "'Stand by Me?'" Noct finally supplied after a long moment of panic.

                "Yes, that's the one." Hmm. _That_ was their song? Strange. Well, looking back at their childhood, he supposed  ̶

                "So, what happened?" Nyx nudged the story along.

                "The only difference between our plans was that Ignis was too anxious to wait until the fireworks to propose. He literally got down on one knee during the appetizer."

                Ignis' ears burned as the other pair laughed.

                "What did you say, other than 'yes'?" Luna asked.

                "I didn't even say 'yes' at first. I think it was something like, 'You son of a bitch!'"

                "Poor Ignis. I imagine you must have felt rejected," she said.

                "It was not the answer I expected," he agreed, because that _would_ be a response he wouldn't have expected.

                "I didn't expect you to say 'Damnit, Gladio!' when I brought out _my_ ring, either, but at least we eventually both said 'yes.'"

                "Wow," Nyx said, taking a sip of wine. "I already thought my proposal was boring."

                "What was yours?" Noctis asked.

                "We were watching TV in bed and I asked, 'Hey, you want to get married?'"

                Luna grinned. "I said 'perhaps.'"

                "It was very romantic. I think that one marlboro cartoon was playing in the background."

                Noctis laughed. "We're all hopeless."

                "Well, we're all married now," Luna argued. She was looking at Ignis in a way that made him feel exposed, somehow. "I don't believe any of us have regrets."

                His brow furrowed slightly in confusion. Why was she looking at him like that?

                "Ravus might," Nyx joked. "He still hates me."

                "He doesn't _hate_ you," Lunafreya rebutted, tearing her gaze away from Ignis. "He at least tolerates you at this point."

                He faintly heard Noctis inquire about Ravus' well-being, but Ignis zoned out of the conversation, lost in his thoughts. The story of their engagement was charming   ̶ the thought of Noctis planning a romantic proposal was flattering   ̶ but the way Lunafreya had looked at him made him uneasy.

                Lunch was a light salad and finger sandwiches, which Ignis finished mostly to have an excuse not to contribute much to the conversation. The topic went from the Oracle's healing tours to visiting Nyx's family in Galahd to Noctis' latest fishing achievement and so on. Frankly, it was such an information overload combined with everything else from before that Ignis needed to time to catch up to his thoughts.

                He'd already wasted enough time, and he wasn't sure how long he could keep up this pretense. He had to convince Noctis that he was in the Crystal, but how? Gentiana had mentioned the repression of his true memories, but they couldn't have been erased completely. Perhaps if he went for the angle of discrepancies in his fake memory compared to the truth. He had plenty of new information about the Crystal's illusion, but not enough to really form a strategy with; Ignis was used to coming up with plans in the middle of battle, but battling daemons couldn't compare to healing Crystal-induced amnesia.

                The Crystal. Maybe that's where he should start. Or maybe he should simply be blunt and explain the situation from his own point of view. Noctis knew that this was not something Ignis would lie about, even for a joke, so there was a chance that he'd believe him at face value. Maybe it would bring a sense of wrong to the forefront, at the very least.

                Or Noctis would think he'd gone insane. It was hard to say how such a conversation would turn out.

                "Specs?" he heard Noct prod, a touch concerned, and he shook himself out of his thoughts.

                "Sorry?"

                "Luna asked about the pasta sauce you made the other night. What new ingredient did you try again?"

                Ignis opened his mouth and promptly realized he had no idea how to improvise his way out of this one. The other three stared at him expectantly. "I… Apologies, I'm afraid I'm a bit out of sorts at the moment. A headache…"

                "You've been acting weird all day," Noctis noted, running a soothing hand down his back. "You never get sick."

                "Maybe I should take a look at you?" the Oracle offered.

                "That's hardly necessary," Ignis assured her. "I'm quite positive it's nothing as vicious as starscourge."

                "What kind of healer would I be if that was the only ailment I knew how to fix?" she retorted. "Please, why don't we step into another room so I can use my magic. It's the least I can do since you and Noctis have been so welcoming."

                "That's very kind of you, but…"

                "She usually ends up getting what she wants," Nyx cut in with a smirk. "Might as well get it over with."

                Well, he supposed it would do no harm. It did provide the perfect cover for his odd behavior. "If you insist."

                "Thanks, Luna." Noctis looked genuinely relieved, which made Ignis feel a tad guilty. 

                "We'll just be a moment," she said, leading Ignis by the arm out the door. There was another small conference room the next door over which was thankfully both unlocked and empty. Ignis wasn't sure why she needed a whole other room to suit her purpose until Luna closed the door and turned to him with a warm smile.

                "It's nice to finally meet you, Ignis Scientia."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The proposal story mostly came from me debating on who would be the one to propose. I hope the minor Lunyx doesn't turn too many people away. That was most likely the most of it. We'll find out more about the proposal, the Crystal, and Luna's mysterious knowledge of Ignis' presence in later chapters. Thanks for reading!


	4. life's ours for the making

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New information from the Oracle does little to help Ignis in his mission, instead leaving him with a bitter decision.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My brain is as tired as Ignis' at this point. This is a one-scene chapter with a bunch of exposition, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. I don't like keeping you guys waiting too long. As always, thanks for reading and commenting!

                Ignis stared dumbly at the Oracle. At this point, he hadn't been sure if he still had the capacity to feel surprised anymore, but it turned out the answer was 'yes.'

                The way she smiled at him knowingly left little question to the meaning behind her words, so Ignis didn't bother feigning innocence. "How… How did you know?"

                "I have never seen the Crystal's Ignis look so confused," she said, lips twitching in amusement. "Besides, I've long feared that Gentiana would send someone in after Noctis."

                "Feared?" An odd choice of word.

                Any amusement drained from her face as she looked him in the eyes. "She shouldn't have sent you here. This world is… dangerous to outsiders."

                Ignis frowned. "All due respect, Your Highness, but my definition of 'dangerous' is a world shrouded in eternal darkness and daemons."

                "Exactly," Lunafreya countered. She stepped toward the window at the far wall, the afternoon sun shining over her. "To let you see again   ̶  to see Noctis again, only for a short while   ̶  and then ask you to return to darkness… It's cruel. I'm sorry."

                He wasn't sure how to respond. He went into this mission knowing, at least in the back of his mind, that sight would be a probable but temporary addition to the Crystal's world. It was hardly going to keep him from going after Noctis. It couldn't be helped, really, and it wasn't the Lady Lunafreya's fault. In any case, "dangerous" was a laughable adjective.

                "I built this world because I believe Noctis deserves a future of his own choice. I've always been mindful of our fates and of what has been stolen from both of us.  Since the gods approached me as a child, I made myself believe I was at peace with it all, so long as the light was returned to the world. I knew what had to be done to protect both our peoples. But when we met again for that brief moment in Altissia, and I saw him not as a king, but as that broken little boy…

                "I was angry, and in my anger, I stood before Bahamut. I was not foolish enough to believe I could change fate, but I was foolish enough to question it. Now, I fear I've only made things worse for everyone."

                Fate was a familiar but strange creature to the advisor. He'd been raised to be the king's advisor, just as Gladio had been groomed to be a shield and Noctis a king. There was a painting in the Citadel that his uncle said was a prophecy, but he'd never shown him which one it was or what it prophesied, exactly. His eyes had wandered to several paintings the hour he'd tried to salvage the painting Noct had scribbled over in his youth. Was the prophecy the painting he was tampering with, or the one over there? He'd asked Noctis, but the boy had grown strangely somber; his father hated that painting, he said.

                When he finally learned the truth of the painting, he'd wondered if Noctis knew the prophecy word for word. Now, he wondered if Lunafreya understood it as a child.

                Ignis didn't ask. "I… never thought I'd be able to see Noctis smile again. I don’t think I've ever seen him smile so _much_ ," he said instead.

                Luna's lips twitched upwards as she turned to speak to him, "You two make each other very happy."

                "Well  ̶ " Ignis' cheeks burned. "  ̶ he is certainly under less pressure here. Insomnia still stands, and his father is healthier than ever. All his regrets have been fixed, as the Lady Gentiana told me."

                He could have sworn she looked confused for a second, but the unnerving knowing glint was back in her eyes. "Yes… She is frustratingly vague, isn't she? But she's always been kind to me."

                It was still odd to reconcile the mysterious Messenger of Noctis' youth with the goddess Shiva herself. "She was the one who told you what would happen."

                "Yes. Well, not _everything_ ," she amended, "but when Noctis was born, she told me that he was the Chosen King destined to return light to the star. She told me I was destined to help him succeed."

                When he was born? The Oracle was only four years older than Noctis, two years older than Ignis himself. The math was unsettling. "A rather large responsibility to bestow upon a four year old, is it not?"

                Her shoulder only shifted the slightest bit, as if the royal wasn't used to shrugging freely. "The line of the Oracle has always been raised under the expectation of the gods. It is a privilege to be able to bring any amount of happiness to the people of Eos."

                It sounded rehearsed: a line repeated by the woman who healed thousands of souls with a smile fixed on her face.

                "How widespread is the scourge on this Eos?" Funny. He hadn't even considered the scourge's toll on this world. Did it even exist here?

                This brought a true smile to her lips. "The numbers grow smaller each year. I usually only heal natural ailments in my travels now."

                Interesting. "It might be out of line for me to ask this, Your Ladyship, but… if this is all simply the Crystal's illusion…"

                "Why heal them at all?" she finished. "Well, it's a good reason to travel. Niflheim's leash kept me from seeing the places I wanted to when I was alive, and even the Crystal's nations wouldn't turn away the Oracle."

                He was not expecting that answer. To be fair, he wasn't sure what he expected. The Oracle had always been as knowable to Ignis as the characters in Noct's video games: the prince spoke well of them, but paper and screens had always been a prominent separation between them.

                That sentiment would be said about Noctis by most of the population of Lucis, he supposed.

                "The Crystal spared no detail in its creation. Everything looks just as it would on the outside, had the sun remain shining," Lunafreya said. "The sylleblossoms of Tenebrae bloom just like they used to under my mother's care. This world's version of my mother smiled just as brightly as she used to…"

                Oh… the late Queen Sylva. "I take it Tenebrae was never attacked in this timeline?"

                "It was, but the combined efforts of King Regis and Queen Sylva succeeded. It was the first of many battles that would lose Niflheim the war."

                Ignis remembered reading the report as a teenager about MTs raining down on the unsuspecting dignitaries, General Glauca killing Queen Sylva in one swift blow, Lunafreya's hand slipping out of King Regis' grasp as he sprinted Noctis to safety. He hadn't been in Tenebrae himself, but he remembered the look on the faces of those who'd escaped when his ten year-old self rushed out to greet a traumatized Noct. Even the king, who'd always seemed untouchable to Ignis, was shaken enough for him to have noticed.

                Could that battle have truly been won?

                "Noctis and I remember that day very differently." Her voice sounded smaller all of a sudden. "When I asked him what he remembered… none of it made sense. It was how I got him to remember his true memories the first time, but… It doesn't work as well anymore."

                Hold on a moment. "He remembered?"

                "He had acquired the full potential of the Crystal a few years ago, but it still wouldn't release him from its hold. I traveled here to help Noctis retrieve his true memories myself. Even when he remembered, he couldn't figure out how to leave. We were planning on searching the Citadel library for information on the Crystal the morning after our meeting, but when I came to him the next morning…" She frowned. "He had completely forgotten us meeting the day before. This kept happening no matter how many times I got him to remember. Something is keeping him here."

                Ignis could think of a great many things that could be keeping him here. Still, the Noctis he knew wouldn't have purposefully given up his real friends' lives for a falsehood. "Do you think it to be his regrets or an external force?"

                Luna shook her head. "I'm not sure. Knowing the regret of his that was fixed, I don't believe that's what's holding him back. Yet, I have no other explanation. The Crystal was the one who presented Eos with the prophecy in the first place, so it has no reason to keep it from coming to pass. The Astrals themselves would have the power to free him. My own ventures to the library in the Citadel have ended in only more confusion."

                Just like his conversation with the Oracle, the advisor mused bitterly.

                "Then why would Gentiana believe that I could be able to help?" Ignis asked her. "If you can't free him, what could I possibly do? I'm merely his chamberlain."

                "Oh, dearest Ignis," Lady Lunafreya spoke his name with such affection that his cheeks reddened, and she stepped over to take both of his hands in hers. "You are so much more."

                Well. That was certainly a flattering sentiment from the Oracle, but he hadn't meant his words in a self-deprecating manner. "Yes, I… Thank you, you're very kind. I meant that I wouldn't have the capability or - or knowledge to interfere with the Crystal's hold over Noctis."

                "No man can know the full extent of his abilities, nor the value his presence has to those around him," she said with a smile. "There are some things your heart knows that your brain hasn't figured out yet. Shiva would not have sent you here on a futile mission."

                He wasn't sure whether to feel comforted or more embarrassed. The Oracle was quite the motivational speaker. He supposed it was part of her job.

                "What do you think I should do?" he asked her. "If Noctis just forgets his true memories like you say, how do we make them stick?"

                "Our first priority should be finding a way out of the Crystal," Luna decided. "Since we know he _can_ remember, it would be best to leave him be until we have a plan."

                "You want me to continue on as if nothing's wrong," he concluded. "In which case, I must respectfully disagree. Not only have I no memories of my counterpart's life here, but I can't keep lying to Noctis."

                He thought of the four of them huddled over a photo of Gladio's daughter   ̶ a daughter that didn't exist. He thought of the sun filtering in through the windows of their apartment, of Noctis' loving smile. It was a smile he wanted him to have, but… not like this. Not if it was a _lie_ while he was unknowingly putting off rescuing the people he cared about. Not if Ignis himself was complicit in the lie.

                "Would you rather waste time convincing him of reality every day? I can tell you it becomes exhausting after a few days and that he never offers a solution to the problem."

                The switch from motivational speaker to pragmatic strategist was disconcerting, but very much like the politician Ignis had forgotten she was.

                "I don't mean to sound callous, Ignis," she said, as if reading his thoughts, "but the best thing we can do for Noctis   ̶ for everyone on Eos   ̶ is to release him from the Crystal as quickly as possible. That means avoiding scrutiny while we find answers."

                The advisor could see her point, but he still didn't have to like it.

                "You have more reason to visit the libraries here than I do, and you have access to files they wouldn't give me. This false life does not permit me to linger in Insomnia long. Soon, I will have to visit the citizens as part of my healing tour. I will only be in Insomnia for a couple days. There are other places I can go to for information in my travels, but I need to know that you will do your part here." She stared him straight in the eyes, and he remembered how intense a person's gaze can be when such determination lies behind it. "Please, Ignis. It will only be for a while longer."

                He pursed his lips. Something akin to guilt still gnawed at his stomach, but he was hardly in a position to offer his own plan at the moment. "I hate to betray his trust, but I will do as you say."

                "You're not betraying his trust, Ignis," Lunafreya argued. "You're helping him. He will understand."

                Ignis felt the weight of the day's events as exhaustion caught up to him. He hoped Noctis would understand, because at the moment, he understood nothing.

                Both Nyx's and Noctis' heads swiveled to look at them when they reentered the dining room a minute later. Ignis hung behind Luna, electing to admire the chandelier hanging from the ceiling instead of looking Noctis in the eye.

                "He just needs rest, Noctis," she assured the prince. "Try not to stress him out too much."

                "I can't make any promises," he replied, sounding a little lighter than when they'd left him. "Thanks, Luna."

                "It is, actually, what I'm here for," she reminded him.

                "I came for the wine," Nyx added, lifting his glass in a toast.

                "You might need to work on your husband next," Noctis told her. "That's his third glass."

                Lunafreya narrowed her eyes at Nyx, who smirked. "Yeah, getting drunk on Lucian royalty's wine in three glasses," he deadpanned. "That's me."

                She shook her head. "I'm afraid I can't leave him anywhere. Thank you for putting up with him while I was gone, Noctis."

                "Thank _you_ for helping Ignis," the prince expressed, studying his husband. "Feel better, Specs?"

                To be honest, he felt worse than he had before he left the room. But he shared a _look_ with Lunafreya, and he forced a smile. "Never better. The Oracle has been… very helpful."

                "Let me know if you need anything else," she said, sending a subtle nod in Ignis' direction. "You have my phone number."

                "That time already, huh?" Nyx guessed, standing up and retrieving her coat from her empty chair.

                "We have plenty of people to visit today," Luna told Noctis, apologetic. "Thank you for lunch. I pray we can see each other again soon."

                "Me too, Luna." Noctis stepped up to give her another hug. "Thanks for stopping by."

                As they watched Nyx and Lunafreya disappear around the corner of the hallway, Noctis grabbed Ignis' hand and leaned against his shoulder. "You really feeling okay, Speccy?"

                He felt himself tipping into Noct's touch, breathing a soft sigh. "A bit tired, but I'll live. Actually, there was something I wanted to look up in the library…"

                Noct chuckled. "Now I know you're feeling better."

                They stayed like that a moment later. Ignis was reluctant to leave his warmth, although he could chalk it up to just how _tired_ he felt at the time. So many thoughts were buzzing around his head   ̶ had been all day, really   ̶ and he needed a moment to just _be_.

                "Come on, I'll walk you over there."

                He didn't let go of Noctis' hand as they went.


	5. eternity's waiting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignis discovers new relationships of his Crystal counterpart, and reflects on a precious, real memory.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how about that Episode Ignis trailer?
> 
> I think that's why this chapter turned out a lot fluffier than it was originally: we need it right now. I hope everyone has a wonderful Halloween! Thanks for reading, reviewing, and kudo's-ing!

                " _Also known as 'The Soul of the Star,' the Crystal has been guarded by the Lucis royal family for more than two thousand years. Legends say the Astrals entrusted it to a worthy king before falling into deep slumber, fatigued from fighting the Great War, in which mankind fought against the Infernian. The power of the Crystal is channeled through the Ring of the Lucii, rumored to   ̶ "_

                Ignis let out a growl of frustration as he slammed the tome shut. He'd been staring at the page for ten minutes   ̶ he'd pored through the entire _book_ at least four times   ̶ but it seems _A Historical Journey Through Eos_ by Yu Maechen offered no new knowledge on the Crystal or how Noctis could escape it. He glared halfheartedly at the stacks of books he'd collected over the past few hours: there were books from every category, books he'd studied in his youth and books that looked as though they _might_ have the word "Crystal" in it at least once. He'd even picked up a high school history textbook in a last-ditch effort for _anything_ new, but he'd found _nothing_. All he had was a throbbing headache and fresh disdain for Insomnia's old educational system.

                He leaned back in his chair, surveying the familiar shelves upon shelves of one of the largest libraries in Eos. He'd spent a lot of time here while training to be Noct's advisor, leaving coffee stains on the ancient green carpet while curled up against the seven-foot stained glass windows lining the wall. He remembered the excitement he'd felt at first entering a library with two whole floors worth of books. He used to check out a book to bring with him to Noctis' room when they were little, just in case he finished his homework before the prince. After the painting forgery incident, he didn't dare take Noct with him into the library, just in case he scribbled in the books like he did his notes.

                It was home, but it wasn't. Even if this library was still intact in the real Insomnia, he hadn't been there in years: the apartment in Lestallum twelve steps long with the coffee table that accounted for constant bruises on his shins was what he called home now. He'd outgrown this place, sometime he never thought possible a decade ago. He'd once thought this is where he'd live his entire life. He was going to live and die working for the Crown.

                He still was going to, of course, just in a different way than expected.

                Ignis looked over his collection of tomes one last time, wondering if any of them were worth checking out to review again later. His eyes were burning with the effort of reading so much in so little time. He supposed he should be grateful to be able to read something other than Braille again, but his exhausted heart lacked the capacity for any other emotion than irritation   ̶  for the lack of answers, for the Crystal, for his agreement to lie to Noctis however briefly.

                Gods, he was tired. He might as well check his office for clues while he was at the Citadel, though. Noctis had seemed to pick up the hint that his husband needed some time alone, so he left to attend to other matters after Ignis had promised to call him if he needed anything and that he wouldn't overwork himself.

                Another thing he lied about, the chamberlain mused with a sigh.

                Ignis had gotten his own office in the Citadel a few years before they had departed for Altissia, and he assumed that his office in this world would be at the same location. He walked the hallways of his childhood like it was a dream, mind clogged with sleep, only half-aware as he nodded at friendly passerby.

                He unlocked his office with the same key he had been gifted by King Regis himself long ago; he'd seemed so proud of his son's advisor, a fatherly smile on his aging lips. He wondered how much he would have been proud of this past decade.

                He should be proud of Noctis, that was for certain. All that the young king had experienced, had suffered from, and he still kept going. Insomnia, Altissia, Gralea… and now the Crystal. If Noctis knew, he'd be trying just as hard as Ignis to find a way out. Ignis wondered what he and Lunafreya had missed all those days of trying. He still wasn't sure of his place on this mission: the Oracle was the one who made this world for Noctis, but even she couldn't control it. Noctis was Chosen by it, and he couldn't escape its hold. Then there was Ignis, who found himself having to refresh his memory of non-Braille words with a dictionary while failing to find answers in countless books.

                He could only hope his files could serve better results, though that hope was small to say the least. He flipped the light switch on and surveyed the familiar layout of the office. The same bookcases had a few new additions to its shelves, but the desk, couch, and chair were the same. Hmm… best to start with the files in the drawers: those were the most recent. Maybe a recent occurrence could explain why the Crystal was keeping its hold on the king.

                He started with the top left drawer, which contained only a handful of half-finished reports. He filed through them quickly: he wasn't sure how much concentration his headache would allow at this point. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary upon first glance: some agricultural reports about the farms on the outskirts of the city, security detail on the Oracle's visit, plans to improve the homeless situation in Insomnia. He remembered being part of the counsel in preparing enough housing for refugees in Lestallum, the guilt burning the folder out of his grip.

                There were some stationery supplies in the drawer below that one   ̶ including a few crayons, oddly enough. He was more surprised to open the top right drawer and find a folder labeled "Daisy" in his own handwriting. Daisy, Gladio's daughter? Why would she have her own folder? Apprehensive, he opened the folder to discover heavily-censored reports, some with crayon scribbles all over them. He picked one up, squinting his new eyes at the markings like they were ancient Solheim hieroglyphics. An intended red underline cut through the text, rendering it illegible, while huge check marks dotted every other line. A child had written in the margins like he often did during meetings or while preparing notes for Noctis to look over: "Kingsglayv need mor kookies." An arrow connected an "e" to the end of "mor."

                Ignis stared at the page for could have been a worryingly long time, trying to uncover some rational explanation for why Daisy Amicitia doodled over classified Citadel reports, and much more why there was an entire folder apparently dedicated to her efforts.

                He dropped the folder back in the drawer, rubbing the bridge of his nose beneath his glasses with a sigh. He didn't have the energy for any more confusion nor surprises. He needed a nap. He needed…

                He thought of the warm feeling that spread through his body when Noct draped a blanket over his shoulders with a kiss to his head.

                A loud knock on his door woke him out of his daydream. Ignis frowned; he hoped it was Noct, although his husband had promised to text before seeking him out. If it were anyone else, especially a stranger, he wasn't sure how long he'd be able to improvise a conversation. He certainly lacked the motivation for it.

                "Just a moment," he called, forcing himself out of his comfy desk chair and to the door. He opened it and was met with nothing in sight but the wall.

                "Iggy!" A small body launched itself at the advisor's legs. Startled, he looked down to see a little girl clutching a moogle plush dressed as a Crownsguard in her arms. She looked like a young Iris with curlier hair and a darker skin tone. Ignis recognized her from the photo Gladio showed them earlier.

                "Daisy," he acknowledged cautiously, placing a gloved hand on the head that was getting drool all over his work pants.

                He'd encountered plenty of young children in his work helping refugees from daemon-overrun cities in the world of darkness. He rarely spent too much talking to them himself, Prompto being the bright-and-cheery goofball that drew frightened kids to him like moths to a flame and Gladio having more experience after Iris and Talcott. Quite frankly, Ignis was worried that his scars would terrify the kids, even if they were hidden behind a visor. He'd heard innocuous whispered questions to parents about them when they were fresh in Altissia, plain behind thin sunglasses that only covered his eyes.

                This little girl was gazing up at his unscarred features with something akin to adoration. Ignis was, regrettably, instantly reciprocating the feeling.

                "You certainly have the strength of an Amicitia," Ignis said as the little girl's arms choked his legs. It was becoming hard to keep his balance, so he gently managed to unlatch her long enough to crouch down to her level. She wrapped her arms around his waist instead, and he fell back with a chuckle, reaching out to steady her tiny frame. It reminded him of when he and Noct were small and he would tackle Ignis to the floor in greeting.

                "Daisy!" Another voice, this one older, shouted from further down the hallway. It belonged to a woman similar in appearance to Daisy but thirty years older  ̶  and heavily pregnant. She waddled over to them as swiftly as her slippers would carry her. "Wait for me to catch up before you assault one of the princes! You need an escape driver!"

                Daisy giggled. Ignis smiled down at her. "It's quite all right. We both remain unharmed. Oh, who's this?"

                The girl was offering her moogle plush to him, and he took it from her gently to admire it. The Crownsguard jacket it wore reminded him of Gladio's and a broadsword was hanging by a thread from its paw. "Is this supposed to be your father? He certainly has his nose."

                He received more giggles as a response. "Nooo! Sir Clara the Second!" she introduced proudly.

                Hmm... "Ah, so he's your grandfather, then?"

                "Her Grandpa Clarus was very flattered," Daisy's mother said as she caught up to her. "He still thinks someday she'll get his name right, that poor naïve soul. Come on, Daisy, get off your Uncle Iggy."

                Daisy clambered off his lap and grabbed at her mother's legs, allowing him to get off the marble Citadel floor. He dusted himself off with one hand before handing Sir Clara back to his owner.

                "Are you your mother's shield for the day?" Ignis asked Daisy.

                "More like advisor," the woman said. "She said you had reports for her to look over and took off before I could stop her. Sorry she mowed you over like that. Say you're sorry, Daisy."

                "Sorry," Daisy told the fabric of her mother's pants, suddenly shy.

                Reports. The folder. "Ah, yes. Well, those reports _are_ very important," Ignis said somberly. "Why don't you come in and rest on the couch while I get one for her?" The poor woman _was_ incredibly pregnant, and caring for Daisy in such a state seemed tiring to say the least. "I'm sure I could also procure us some refreshments. Is there anything else you need?"

                "Thank you, Ignis," she said as Ignis ushered the two into his office. "We're fine, just heavily pregnant and rude."

                "She did knock, in her defense." Ignis helped the mother  ̶  her name started with a D. Danielle? Diana? That one sounded right  ̶  onto the couch.

                "She also apologized before kicking Gladio in the shins this morning," Diana added lightly, "so at least she's learning."

                Definitely Gladio's daughter, Ignis mused wryly as he went for the crayons and folder. Although, Gladio had never been this interested in political reports; it'd been one of the few things that could bring him and Noct back together from a growing quarrel. Ignis had sometimes tossed files at them just to make them shut up.

                "Certainly less rude than her father, then," he said lightheartedly as he fished a crayon-less page from the folder. He didn't read much of what wasn't blacked out on the page  ̶  he spotted words such as "hunters," "daemon," and "glaive"  ̶  but he  doubted Daisy cared which one he picked. "He never apologizes to _me_ when he does that."

                Daisy stood on her tippy-toes to peer over his desk at the folder. Raising a brow, he offered her the report and a handful of crayons. He still wasn't sure why this arrangement existed in the first place, how his counterpart had gotten in the habit of giving censored-yet-classified material to a small child, but at least kids were easier to improvise with. "Please look over this report for me, Lady Daisy."

                She nodded, as serious as though he asked her to assassinate the Chancellor himself. "Thank you, sir."

                She sat with the supplies on the floor, and Ignis couldn't hide his smile.

                "One would think she'd rather train with Sir Clara than fill out boring reports," the advisor opened conversation with Diana.

                "Gladio wishes," Diana said, watching her daughter fondly. "He hopes he can make a shield out of the next one." She placed a hand on her stomach. "Judging by how hard she kicks, I'd say he's in luck."

                Ignis leaned against his desk. "I hear the two of you are discussing names?"

                The brunette sighed theatrically. "Oh, gods. It _has_ to be a flower name, or we're destroying a centuries-old family tradition. And Daisy thought 'Peony' was 'pee-on-me,' so we're back to the drawing board… again."

                "Some traditions have to end eventually," Ignis offered.

                "Well, you know how stubborn Gladio is. And he thinks it's a big deal to his father," she said.

                "Lord Clarus was always a stickler for the rules."

                She chuckled. "You're one to talk. I've heard the story of Gladio's fifteenth birthday, you know."

                Right. When Gladio and Noct wanted to smuggle some of the wine from the kitchens in the middle of the night, and Ignis said "no" in the way of an overdramatic ten-minute lecture that became a running joke for the three of them for years to come. His pubescent high-pitched "harum-scarum" had even grown to become a Citadel-wide meme at one point. Those were the days of his pocket-sized thesaurus, of course.

                "Well, _one_ of us had to take after his father."

                The two adults shared smirks. Ignis had only just met Diana, and only knew her in the Crystal, but it was remarkably easy to talk to her.

                A chirping noise came from his pocket. A text from Noct: " _u still @ the library?_ "

                " _I'm in my office."_ he sent back.

                " _see u soon speccy o-o_ "

                "Was that His Highness?" Diana inquired with a sly tone.

                Bemused, he answered, "Yes. He is on his way here."

                "Thought so," she said. "It's cute how you guys still have those mushy smiles on your face after all these years."

                He wasn't  ̶  oh. He was smiling. It was hard not to, seeing his old nickname-emoji combination from Noctis after all these years.

                "It… still feels new to me," he said honestly.

                There was a light tug at his pant leg. Ignis looked down to see Daisy holding her "report" up to him.

                "All done, love?" She nodded, and he picked it up to review it. It was mostly check marks and wobbly lines with a note or two that took up any blank space. "Hmm… yes, excellent work. I will bring your recommendation for more bows on the Crownsguard fatigues to the Marshal's attention."

                "What are fat teas?" the little girl asked. Diana shook her head in amusement.

                "Fatigues. May I borrow your crayon?" He used the offered red crayon to spell the word at the bottom of the page. "F-a-t-i-g-u-e-s. It's what we call the clothes that the Crownsguard wear on duty."

                "Fat-eegs," Daisy repeated slowly. "Fatigues."

                "You may also hear the word 'fatigued,' which is what we call Prince Noctis after five minutes without a nap," Ignis added, making Diana laugh.

                "Hey," Noct said from the doorway, crossing his arms. "I've been awake for _hours_."

                The advisor hadn't seen him come in. His lips twitched upwards at the prince, who was smirking at him in that teasing way of his.

                "Your Highness," Diana greeted.

                "Diana. How are you feeling?"

                "Like there's a person in my stomach," she said cheerfully.

                "Neat." Noctis walked up to Daisy, who was still studying the word that Ignis had written on the page. "Hi, Daisy."

                "Fatigues." She didn't even look up.

                Noctis made a show of raising his hands. "What kind of prince am I? I can't get my subjects to respect me."

                "You certainly won't get by on good looks alone," Ignis teased.

                Noctis raised a brow at his husband. "But I look good?" He slid an arm around his waist.

                Ignis flushed. "Well…"

                "Not in front of the kids!" Diana struggled to stand up from the couch. "Come on, Daisy. It's getting PG-13 in here."

                Once again, Ignis felt a tug at his pants, and he reluctantly broke  away from Noctis to address her, "What is it?"

                "The picture!" Daisy said, pointing at the report.

                Ignis looked at the report in his hand, confused.

                "Back!" she urged.

                He turned the page around to find it covered with drawings: he spotted two chocobos, what appeared to be a strangely-shaped dog with a mohawk, an assortment of colorful flowers, and two stick figures. One had dark hair and a crown, and the other had glasses; both, oddly enough, had bows on their heads. The young artist was serious about there being more bows on the Crownsguard, he supposed.

                "Goodness," Ignis said, "I do believe this is the prettiest report I've ever received. You've certainly gone above and beyond the call of duty, young lady."

                Her round face glowed with pride.

                "Is that supposed to be me and Ignis?" Noctis asked Daisy, who nodded. "We look great! I think you accidentally drew me a little shorter, though… I should be taller than Iggy."

                Ignis scoffed. "She drew us perfectly. She even managed to capture your big head."

                Noctis stuck his tongue out at the other man, and Daisy squealed with laughter.

                "Say goodbye to the princes, Daisy," Diana said, grabbing her daughter's hand.

                "Bye!"

                "Thank you for the report, Daisy." Ignis smiled at Diana. "Are you certain you don't require any assistance?"

                "I'm fine, just as long as my shield doesn't run off on me again." She ruffled her daughter's hair.

                "Be sure to stick close to your mother, Daisy," Ignis warned her.

                Daisy nodded, and the four exchanged goodbyes before the ladies left the office. Noctis turned to Ignis. "So, you get a lot of work done on your day off?"

                "A bit. My assistant was a great help."

                He chuckled. "I haven't seen a kid so eager to do homework since you."

                "I would hardly call making random check marks and underlines homework," Ignis said. "If I gave her an economical report to seriously read, she'd hate me forever."

                "I don't know. She's pretty smitten with you." Noctis smiled up at him. "I can see why."

                Ignis rolled his eyes and tried to stop his own smile from spreading on his face. "Come now…"

                "Seriously though. You can't tell me studying in the library for three hours actually _helped_ that headache of yours."

                It hadn't. "The Oracle said I simply needed rest."

                "Okay, then." Noctis sat on the couch. "Come here."

                Ignis raised a brow, but acquiesced at the beckoning hand. He sat beside Noctis only to be disconcerted by Noctis gently rearranging their position so that his head was on the Crown Prince's lap. He was too stunned to protest as Noctis removed the glasses from his red face.

                "I think you're been working too hard lately," Noctis said, running a hand through his hair. "I mean, you _always_ work too hard, but it's okay to slow down once and a while. I really appreciate all you did yesterday, and basically every day of my life. But I don't want you pushing yourself so hard that you get sick. You always take care of me, but you gotta let me take care of you, too. That's kinda what we agreed on when we got married."

                Ignis tried to ignore how wrong that statement was, how lovely it was to hear it, and how guilty he felt lying in the lap of his king  ̶  in every sense of the word. And Noctis had never been so open with his feelings. "Did you rehearse that?"

                "Hey! I'm being serious here!" He said in a manner that screamed "yes."

                "Apologies. I… do appreciate it, Noct. Thank you."

                The hand in his hair was relaxing, especially after such a long, stressful day. Ignis couldn't remember the last time he'd been this close to another human being or the last time someone took care of him like this. He'd always been far away from his parents, his uncle had never been particularly physical in his affection, and Ignis himself had always appeared too stiff for even Prompto to get in his personal space. With Noct… despite everything that was happening, he felt safe. Peaceful, even. Like the years had washed away and they were two children huddled in the back of a car…

 

*

 

                _Ignis was supposed to be a nine year-old prodigy. In fact, his intelligence was the main reason he was being raised to become Prince Noctis' advisor, aside from his uncle's influence. Yet as he glared down at his math textbook until his vision blurred, he still couldn't make heads or tails of what the equation was trying to_ do _. It had started using new symbols and terminology that he didn't understand and it frustrated him: he was used to understanding. He was supposed to be able to understand. It was what he was supposed to be good at._

_Finally, he shut the textbook with an irritated sigh, tossing it off the couch with a resulting thud that startled Noctis away from his coloring book._

_"You okay, Iggy?" the younger child asked._

_"It's nothing, Your Highness," he mumbled._

_"Now I know it's something," Noctis countered. "You only call me that when you're in a_ mood _."_

_"A mood?"_

_"It's what Dad says when someone's being cranky," he clarified._

_"I'm not being cranky!" Ignis cried crankily. "And I'm not in a mood! I'm perfectly fine!"_

_His friend didn't look convinced at all, frowning up at him. It probably didn't help that Ignis felt his eyes tear up behind his glasses. He shouldn't cry   ̶  he wasn't a baby or anything   ̶  but he was just so frustrated._

_He heard the shuffle of Noctis dropping his colored pencils and fumbling over to him on his small legs. A tiny hand took his, and Ignis used his free one to hastily wipe tears from his eyes._

_"Come on, Iggy. I know what will help."_

_And that's how the two ended up sneaking down to the Citadel's private garage, where Noctis' father kept his car. Ignis' brows furrowed as he watched Noctis unlock the door to the back seat. "Why are we here? And where did you get your father's car keys? Aren't we going to get in trouble?"_

_"I come here all the time, it's fine! Get in!" Noct urged, sliding over so Ignis could climb in. After his friend shut the car door, the prince leaned over the driver's seat to start the engine and fiddle with the radio. A rhythmic chord progression played by a bass started playing; the quality sounded old, like the music his uncle liked to listen to._

_Noctis leaned back, his shoulder pressed against Ignis'. "This is where I come whenever I'm sad or angry. It's safe here. No one will find us."_

_Ignis listened as a man's voice joined the instruments, "_ When the night has come _…"_

_"Is there a scratch in the CD?" he asked. "What's that scratching noise?"_

_Noct looked offended. "That's an_ instrument _, Iggy."_

_His cheeks flushed. Another thing he didn't understand. Ignis looked out the window and pretended to study another car._

_"Hey. It's okay." Noct's voice was gentler. "You never heard it before."_

_"I should still be able to know."_

_"Why?"_

_The question caught the advisor-in-training off guard. "Because…. Because I'm smart."_

_"So's my dad, but  he mispo   ̶  mispron   ̶ "_

_"Mispronounced?" was nine year-old Ignis' dignified correction._

_"… said that one emperor's name wrong."_

_"He did?" Ignis' mouth fell open in horror. Surely the_ king _wouldn't make such a mistake._

_"Yeah. Uncle Clarus had to tell him right in front of everyone. It was funny," the prince giggled._

_The young Scientia looked as though he was questioning truth and reason themselves. Noctis seemed to sense that he was thinking too hard again, so he quickly added, "So smart people can still be stupid sometimes."_

_Ignis sent him a look. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"_

_"No, the song is. It's the best."_

_It_ was _catchy. Ignis let Noctis lean on his shoulder as they listened to this song and the next and the next. He did feel better afterwards, he guessed._

_Two years later, Ignis would wheel an injured Noctis down to the garage, help him into the backseat, and use stolen car keys to play it again._

_"_ ̶  no, I won't shed a tear just as long as you stand, stand by me. So darling, darling   ̶ _"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Cause this is filler! Filler fluff!  
> And nothing's gonna save you from this really cheesy stuff!  
> (I hope that flashback wasn't too out of place.)  
> Thanks for reading!


	6. waiting for you and me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignis makes a startling discovery that will change the way he approaches his mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I bring you sixteen pages of fic after a long hiatus. I'm so sorry it took this long, but this was a chapter I couldn't mess up, so I hope you enjoy how it came out! Happy Ignoct Week 2018!  
> Also, I tweaked a few details in earlier chapters: mention of Episode Ignis and Daisy's age. They're not worth going back and finding them, though. Thanks for reading!

_There was fire everywhere he looked. Ignis squinted through the smoke to find a wall, an exit,_ something _, but he might as well have been blind._

_"Noct?" he made the mistake of calling, his proceeding coughing fit the only response heard among the crackling of the flames._

_The fire was dangerously close, the heat reminding him of a burning sensation he'd felt nine years ago, fire sizzling through his skin._

_"Noct!"_

_"Ignis!"_

 

-

 

                He woke with a gasp, narrowing missing Noct's forehead as he sprang into a sitting position. A hand was immediately on his back, then his shoulder, which was heaving with his breaths.

                "It's okay, Iggy," the prince's voice assured him quietly. "You're okay."

                Ignis stared at the long leaves of the potted plant in the corner of the room   ̶ his old office. That's right. He was in Insomnia again, in his old office in the Citadel.

                "Apologies," he whispered, his breathing calming as he shook the nightmare from his mind.

                "Don't be sorry." An arm wrapped around him, pulling him back into Noctis' warmth. "Nightmare?"

                "Yes, I suppose so."

                Ignis would reflect later that it was odd: wasn't he already dreaming with Noctis inside the Crystal? Was it a dream within a dream?

                "You… wanna talk about it?" Noctis sounded as though he knew Ignis would refuse, burying his face into Ignis' now entirely-disordered hair.

                "No. I've already forgotten it, I'm afraid. Sorry to frighten you." Ignis turned to face him, still not quite used to such physical closeness to Noctis but reluctant to tear himself away. His eyes darted to Noct's, then his lips for an unbecoming amount of time, then hastily to a scattering of paper on the floor. "Were you working?"

                "Yeah. You were out for a while, so I got most of tomorrow's reading done. I'm not even going to bother finishing that agricultural report, though. You could probably explain it better."

                "You'll have to wait until I finish it myself, I'm afraid." Ignis broke out of Noctis' hold to lean down and pick the files off the floor. "I'm sorry I interrupted this unusual burst of productivity."

                "Hey! _I_ was the one who thought of storing the reports in the Armiger! And I'm usually the only one I notice pulling them from there," Noctis countered, shoving his shoulder lightly before helping him pluck the strewn pages.

                "I probably finish mine so quickly there's no need to store them there."

                "Ha. _Probably_?"

                "Most certainly." Drat. Ignis blamed his post-nap grogginess for his slip-up. Fortunately, Noct seemed to think little of it as he passed over the papers he'd collected. He hid the blush he knew he sported when their fingers touched.

                "Anyway, we can go over them after dinner if you want. It's getting late. Let's go home."

-

                Ignis felt an odd sort of contentment upon returning to their apartment, replacing shoes with slippers and storing the car keys in the same place he'd picked them up this morning, as if he'd been living there longer than just that day. Perhaps it was a lingering feeling from his counterpart's body   ̶ could the Crystal's simulation truly _feel_?   ̶ but the place was already beginning to feel homey. While Noctis immediately went to change into more comfortable clothes, Ignis threw together a quick stew from the ingredients in the refrigerator, rummaging around like it truly was _his_ kitchen.

                It occurred to him, as it had when he'd cooked breakfast that morning, that he could use as many handfuls of ingredients as he pleased. There was no regulated food rationing in this Eos, and the garula sirloin he found was untouched by any amount of starscourge. Regular meat was rare in the kitchens he'd grown accustomed to. Not to mention all those fully-grown tomatoes in this refrigerator, good gods. He was wondering how many vegetables he could get away with adding to the recipe when the prince returned, carrying a large trash bag.

                "Please tell me that isn't all from your party last night," Ignis said, eying the lumpy bag apprehensively.

                "It isn't _trash_ ," Noctis said, pouting. "I put all my gifts in here, remember? I have to sort out the thank you notes before I forget who gave me what."

                "Very polite of you," Ignis pointed out. "Be sure to write that you put their meaningful gifts where they belonged."

                "Yeah." He set the bag down between the couch and coffee table, flopping onto the cushions with the grace of a prince who wasn't being watched by the public. "And that it was because of my husband who, and I quote, 'had a much better gift waiting in the bedroom, sod it all, let's just sort the rest tomorrow.'"

                Ignis wondered if he should have lost the ability to blush with the amount of times his cheeks reddened this day. It wasn't even the not-so-subtle allusions to their… nightly activities, he decided to call them. Every look, every touch, Noct's forwardness in his every interaction with Ignis was unsettlingly romantic, especially to a man who was dropped into the middle of their romance without any prior indication of shared feelings. Sometimes, it felt just like old times, when they were simply close friends who laughed with each other. Then he would say something sweet in that confident voice his twenty year-old self had often lacked, and Ignis' would feel the world spin the other direction on its axis.

                Noctis had romantic feelings for him in this world. He had these feelings for him in reality, too, if this was a regret that was fixed by the Crystal. His flirtations weren't empty actions, then: he _wanted_ this relationship with Ignis. He wanted to share a home with Ignis, to share a bed, to share a life. It made Ignis feel a little less guilty about realizing he wanted it too.

                There were still nagging doubts eating at his subconscious, such as his role as chamberlain and advisor to Noct and  the prince needing an heir. Perhaps the most alarming consideration he made was that Noctis didn't really know the thirty-two year-old Ignis. He knew the twenty-two year-old Ignis. He knew the Crystal's Ignis, who grew up in a peaceful city with his sight intact and with presumably far fewer mental health repercussions. This Ignis in the Crystal had never felt his eyes burn from the inside, had never taken on the power and pain of the Ring of Luci'i to protect his prince. He _would_ have  ̶ _any_ version of Ignis would have in a heartbeat  ̶ but he was never given the choice. He never had to face eternal darkness in every sense of the word, from lack of vision to lack of Noctis to knowing, deep down, those hazy, scattered visions he saw in Altissia meant that someday  ̶  

                Smoke fogged up his glasses. The stew was burning. Ignis hastily turned the stove off.

                He had managed to rescue the stew and pour out two bowls when he heard Noctis chuckle from the living room.

                "Something funny?" he asked, peering over the back of the couch.

                "I still can't get over that movie Prompto got for me," he explained, raising the DVD cover so Ignis could see it. "Look at the guy they got to play Dad. He looks more like Gladio, don't you think?"

                Ignis' lips twitched. "The likeness _is_ uncanny." The hair was a little shorter, but the face shape was spot on. He wondered if this is what the real Gladio looked like now.

                Then it hit him.

                "… Prompto gave you this last night?"

                "Yeah. Don't you remember?" Noctis grinned up at him conspiratorially, like he was the one who directed the movie decades ago. "We were going to show it to you sometime next week. You _have_ to see the pants this guy wears when they talk about how Cor was a 'terrible influence on adolescent Prince Regis.' They made it look like he joined a biker gang or something."

                That was odd. Not the biker gang story, which _was_ a strange scene to visualize. But… he _knew_ Prompto had told him he'd gotten Noctis the DVD in the real world. That conversation hadn't been in the Crystal ̶ the only time the two of them had spoken here was at the exhibit, and that was brief ̶ but in the kitchen at Hammerhead. The _real_ Prompto had retrieved the disc from the rubble of a MoogleMart, a miracle find. What were the odds of both Prompto's from two very different settings getting Noct the same gift? _Was_ this a mere coincidence? Although possible, it seemed too peculiar to dismiss…

                "   ̶  and honestly, to this day, even I'm convinced Dad might have had an affair with Clarus." Noctis had continued speaking. "The actors really sold it."

                Well, there was no use fretting over the situation now. Not like it had to have any deep meaning. "I look forward to sullying my impression of the king and his shield." Ignis circled the couch, handing his companion a bowl before sitting beside him.

                Noctis scooted closer to him so their thighs touched. "You won't be able to look either of them in the eye for a month."

                Dinner continued, easy conversation with his oldest friend. The look of happiness when Noctis took his first spoonful of stew made Ignis' heart ache with nostalgia. He wondered at how little Noctis seemed to really have changed over the years, and then how much he himself had. Could his husband pick up on the little quirks like this? Were they the same as the Ignis he'd married?

                Reviewing reports after dinner was another burst of nostalgia. Ignis used to bring files over to Noct's apartment for him to read, though they often ended up just reading them together. The thirty year-old Noctis seemed much more involved in the contents of the reports, however, bouncing issues and solutions off Ignis for even the dullest of subjects. Even his typical sarcastic comments were a bit more topic appropriate. Ignis felt intellectually stimulated in a way he hadn't in years.

                It so was so much like old times that Ignis almost forgot they were married. The reminder came when it came time to get ready for bed - the bed they shared. The bed they had both woken up naked in the night before. For a moment, Ignis was concerned that Noctis expected them to… fraternize? What was the least vulgar term for it? In any case, Noctis didn't seem like he was going to initiate any sort of activity. Then again, Ignis was a bit embarrassed to realize he had little idea of how married couples went about this sort of thing. Was there some subtle signal or seduction ritual? Did one simply say point blank, "Hello, I would like to engage in marital sex?" What about any other safety or comfort precautions…

                Good lord. He was thirty-two and this inexperienced with romance. He could _hear_ Gladio laughing at him somewhere.

                Noctis turned to face him from the connected master bathroom, where he had been brushing his teeth, and Ignis suddenly couldn't make eye contact. He pretended to smooth out a wrinkle at the corner of their bedspread.

                This train of thought was anything but productive. If, by some chance, the offer was given, Ignis would simply have to say "no" and Noctis would respect that. They were both mature adults capable of communication and restraint, and they both apparently slept with their shirts off now all right that was new when did Noctis begin this habit  ̶

                "Bathroom's yours, babe," Noctis said, stepping out the doorway and tossing his shirt into a laundry hamper.

                "Ah… yes. Thank you. I… I need to use the teeth."

                Noctis stared. Ignis flushed, hurrying for the restroom.

                He spent an outrageously long time in the bathroom, partially because he was still figuring out which items were his and partially in hopes of Noctis falling asleep before he came back out. Despite his effort, his friend was still awake on the bed,  looking at his phone.

                "Took you long enough," he said teasingly, and Ignis' heartbeat stuttered. Oh no. Had he been waiting to try to initiate something…?

                "Sorry to keep you waiting." Nervous, Ignis slid under the covers on his side of the bed. He folded his glasses and placed them on his bedside table, the movement slow so he could give himself a quiet pep talk. ' _Alright, Ignis. Just behave naturally. You can do this._ '

                Mentally steeling himself, he positioned himself on his back like he usually slept, sending Noct a tense smile. "Good night, Noct."

                His husband closed the distance between them, wrapping an arm around his waist and pecking him chastely on the lips. "Good night, Specs," he whispered, nuzzling his face into Ignis' shoulder. "Love you."

                Ignis couldn't respond immediately, taken aback by Noctis' casual but genuine expression of affection. Despite the embarrassing red that covered his body, he relaxed into Noct's embrace. Some part of him felt freed when he said, "Love you, too."

 

-

 

_Every inch of the room was covered in flames, the smoke filling Ignis' lungs. Where was he? How had he gotten here?_

_"Noct!" he called instinctively, regretting it as soon as his body tried to cough out the smoke that he breathed in._

_Glancing to his right, he could see a tapestry being eaten by the fire; he was in the hall of prophecies in the Citadel. He could hardly care for any ancient artifacts being destroyed in the chaos, however, as his eyes searched desperately for any kind of escape._

_**"… eil…. ycehporp… epacse…"**_

_There, at the other side of the room. Was that a person? He could hardly make out the shadow through the flames. "Noct!" he shouted again. The figure seemed to turn to face him, and everything went black._

 

-

 

                Ignis woke in a sweat, gasping in the smoke-free air. A nightmare. A dream within a dream, as it were. He was back in their room in the alternate Eos. Beside him, Noctis shifted, but was out like a light. Noct was safe. He was safe…

                Safe, unlike those he'd left behind in the lightless Eos.

                Ignis sighed, dragging a hand over his face, the skin smooth instead of scarred as it'd been since Altissia. He turned his head to the left and his nose was centimeters from Noct's. He ran a hand up the bare arm wrapped around his stomach, stopping the movement at his shoulder. They'd known each other all their lives, but Noctis used to never have his shirt off in the presence of anyone. Now, it seemed as though he bared that scar on his back to Ignis without a second thought. He wondered how many times he'd run his fingers up that scar in this life, whether in the midst of passion or in the mere comfort of his presence. He wondered if it hurt him or soothed him. He wondered if Noctis would do the same to the scars on his real body, especially the one that covered half his face and that he could imagine looked hideous.

                Even if Noctis could cover his scar, Ignis couldn't cover his to anyone.

                Moving carefully as not to wake his companion, Ignis reached over to check his phone from the bedside table. 4:04 a.m. Not late enough to be his usual waking hour, but early enough for him to start the day. He gently extricated himself from Noct's embrace, watched him frown and reach for a body no longer there, and walked to the living room.

                The files they'd gone over the night before didn't have any worthwhile information for Ignis' mission, but it wouldn't hurt to double check before heading to the Citadel. If anything, he could use the distraction. He grabbed an Ebony before heading for the couch. The manila folders sat neatly in a pile on the coffee table. He took the first one from the stack and began to read.

                Two hours later and nothing substantial. Just the typical set of agriculture, transportation, and that one council member who always tried to make their own personal issues a city-wide conflict. There'd be some odd monsters cropping up near the Niflheim border, but since it was the Republic of Niflheim in the Crystal and apparently far less shady, he doubted it was something to take notice of. Aside from stealing it in the real world, Niflheim had little relevance to the Crystal, anyway.

                What did Gentiana expect him to do? He doubted she'd tell him outright no matter how many times he asked; that woman was irritatingly cryptic. Surely she'd present him with a clue of some sort at the very least. Perhaps he could try and summon her.

                "Gentiana? Lady Shiva?" He kept his voice quiet so Noctis wouldn't wake up and hear. "I need to speak with you. Are you there?"

                A minute of silence. Either Gentiana couldn't hear him, or she couldn't reach him in the Crystal. Or perhaps she didn't want to. Perhaps she was reclining on some astral beach, laughing at him between sips of a fruity tropical drink.

                Well, if she couldn't hear his calls in here, she surely wouldn't be able to hear the very choice words he was repeating in his head.

                Maybe the answer didn't lie in the files or books so much as it did the simulation itself. Maybe there was something around the Citadel that Lunafreya wasn't able to see from her role in the simulation. There were other off-limit areas besides the private libraries. Even if she did find time to explore, there were rooms even the Oracle herself wouldn't be allowed to search. Ignis doubted he'd be allowed, either, but perhaps being prince consort had more advantages. Otherwise, he could simply break in. No one else in the Crystal was real. He didn't mind ruffling a few fake feathers if he had to.

 

-

 

                Noctis had some sort of media appearance to make before their council meeting at noon, so Ignis decided to wander the Citadel corridors to truly take it in like he hadn't in ten whole years. He used to dart to and fro when he still frequented the palace, walking quicker than some Crownsguard recruits would run, never taking any detail in while he tried hopelessly to adhere to the schedule that only he really forced on himself. Nowadays, he hardly rushed anywhere on foot in fear of bumping into something. No matter how easily he was able to chart his steps around Lestallum or Hammerhead or even the waters of the Vesperpool, he exercised more caution than he ever had. Ironically, he ran into fewer people blind than he had with the sight to see how late it was on his watch.

                He had forgotten just how much space the Citadel had set aside for training. The Kingsglaive had several rooms for their drills, then there was a slightly smaller section of Crownsguard rooms on the other side of the practice field that joined them. In this reality, it seemed as though the Kingsglaive had disbanded, so the entire training compound was being used by the Crownsguard. Otherwise, everything seemed the same: the same set of shelves holding everything from lances to shurikens, the same rows of training dummies, the backdrop of targets that Prompto had shown off his shooting progress on. The last time he'd been on the practice field, in fact, was to watch the blond pass his final test to join the journey to Altissia, Cor watching from a distance with the smallest of smiles on his face, which was practically beaming with pride when it came to the Marshal.

                Now, the Marshal was watching what appeared to be fresh recruits spar in pairs across the field, seeming remarkably less proud but also far less hardened than he usually sounded in the real Eos. He nodded at Ignis when he saw him pass, and the advisor nodded back, trying not to stare and imagine what he must look like in the real world. Iris said he now had that huge scar across his neck from that one mission near Old Lestallum. It'd been a close call, but it'd been the mission that she felt she'd really proven herself to the Marshal as a hunter. He wondered if Iris had pursued her training as vigorously in this world.

                He slipped inside the training room he and Gladio used to frequent back in the good old days. The Shield was training inside at that moment, conveniently, and Ignis was gifted with his first full reveal of his Amicitia tattoo since regaining sight. He'd never been  big fan of tattoos, especially during Noctis' teenage begging to get one, but the eagle was a beautiful exception and a mark of the Shield status.

                Gladio spun around, heaving his sword toward an imaginary foe. His expression of concentration melted into a smile when he saw Ignis was watching. "Hey. You're here early."

                "Well, I have a bit of time before my next meeting," he said, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. "I might as well use it productively."

                "Heh. Our Iggy, always staying sharp." Gladio leaned on his broadsword, relaxing out of his training stance. "You up for a spar? I feel like we haven't trained together in forever."

                The edges of Ignis' lips twitched. "You're telling me." He hadn't trained with anyone else for a while, instead being plunged right into the heat of battle in lieu of practice time.

                Fighting styles, as Cor had once told him, were like finger prints. Everyone had their own unique movements; two men could swing the same arm a different way. Gladio had always relied on brute force hidden behind refined technique. He had the muscles to knock out the toughest foe, but had trained under the highest-ranked Crownsguard since early childhood. There was a finesse to his swings despite how heavy his broadsword was. As Ignis dodged and parried with his old training daggers, he spotted the same little quirks in this Gladio's fighting, and soon forgot this wasn't this real Gladio.

                Their battle stretched on, the thrill of the sport pushing them on as they traded their usual taunts.

                "Four eyes just means four times the weak points."

                "I wouldn't even need one to see where this fight's going."

                He wouldn't, actually. Ignis was proud of how capable he was on the battlefield without sight. This simulation of sight brought an extra advantage, but it wasn't what kept Ignis toe-to-toe with his sparring partner. Sparring was something that was built on muscle memory.

                Eventually, their weapons drooped. There wasn't a clear winner in their spar, but they both had begun to feel themselves reaching their limits. A respectful nod was all that they needed to exchange before they put their weapons away and went for some water.

                "You've gotten better," Gladio said, as pleased as Ignis had ever seen him after a workout.

                "Or you're slipping," Ignis retorted.

                The larger man laughed. "I know I am. Keeping an eye on a kid is only so much of a workout. Even literally running to the store to pick up Diana's cravings isn't that bad. Somehow, though, I'm still tired."

                "Parenting does have that effect. It's the stress."

                "You'd know, looking after Noct all these years."

                Ignis rolled his eyes. Even marrying Noctis wouldn't save him from that ongoing joke.

                Gladio grinned. "Speaking of which, how about you and the princess? You guys thought any more about the whole kid thing?"

                …Oh. He supposed it'd make sense that the future king needed an heir, and it was something that required a great deal of thought, especially when he was married to a man. They… They must _have_ spoken at length about being parents at some point. He wondered what Noctis said, if Noctis wanted to be a father. He'd had a strained relationship with his own father for most of his life, but he'd always loved him deeply, and his death had been the tragedy that destroyed the prince the most. Noctis had yet to fully know the burdens that came with ruling a kingdom, but Ignis figured he'd try to be an attentive father. He always knew Noctis wished for more time with Regis.

                Queen Aulea had died when Noctis was very young. It wasn't so much that he suffered from a lack of maternal figures in his life, but Noctis might have been a tad less lonely with another parent growing up. Or, possibly he just wanted his dad and no one else. The person was always more than just the role they filled.

                Still, the idea of Noctis and Ignis raising a child together, family meals and holiday gifts and grade school gossip, was something he couldn't help but quietly yearn for.

                "Heh. From the look on your face, _you've_ thought about it." Gladio nudged his arm. "What's the holdup?"

                Where should he begin? "We're not quite ready for that, I'm afraid. It isn't something to take lightly."

                "Well, I can tell you right now you're never going to be ready. Five years in and I still have no idea what I'm doing." The Shield set down on a nearby bench, and Ignis joined him. "I remember the first time I held Daisy, how tiny she was. I was so scared I wouldn't be able to protect her from everything. It's one thing being shield to a prince: those targets are easy, you just beat 'em up. But I knew there was going to be some things I couldn't beat up for her. That was around when everyone was calling me some war hero, 'the man that cut down the emperor to protect the prince.' That title meant nothing if I couldn't be a good father."

                Gladio killed the emperor? Ignis stored that information for later and tried to keep listening.

                "I've been second-guessing myself a lot lately. The firstborn Amicitia kid always ends up being the next shield, you know? That's how it's always been. But Daisy's so smart   ̶ a little genius, like you were   ̶ and she already cares more about brains than brawn. She wants to be an advisor someday. She'd be the best," Gladio said, the pride clear in his expression, "the right-hand council to whatever punk you two end up raising. Either way, if it's what she wants, then it's what I want for her. But Dad keeps saying she'll change her mind when she starts training. 'It's in her blood,' he says. He keeps giving her toys like swords and shurikens for gifts."

                Gladio sighed. "I always wanted to be a shield, ever since I was around Daisy's age. I always knew that's who I was going to be and I was proud of it.  I wanted to be just like my dad. Now… of course I still want to protect Noct, and I want your guys' kid to be protected, too. But I don't want Daisy to have to sacrifice her dreams just because she was born into a family of tradition."

                "Have you spoken to Clarus about this?" Ignis asked.

                His chuckle sounded self-deprecating. "Nah. Too much of a coward, I guess. And what good would it do? Who knows if Iris is going to have kids, and if this one on the way doesn't want to be a shield either, then I would just have to choose which kid's dreams to crush. I used to get so pissed at Noct when we were younger for not trying harder, but… I dunno. Maybe I'm just getting soft in my old age."

                "'Old age,' he says," Ignis scoffed. " _I'm_ still young, thank you very much."

                Gladio laughed, draping a towel over his neck. Ignis watched, studying the man he'd become in this world. In reality, Gladio had matured in the years of darkness, if not hardened from the pressure. He'd become more patient; he'd never been a violent person, but he had grown from the grieving man who'd picked a fight with his prince in a train a decade ago. Ignis thinks he'd been regretting his words ever since Noctis was taken into the Crystal. Ever since then, he'd never end a conversation on bad terms with someone he cared for. In the dark world, no one knew which conversation would be their last.

                This Gladio had also seemed to mellow out over the years under completely different circumstances. Instead of hunters and civilians, he cared for a wife and child, but that drive to protect other people only deepened either route. Ignis hoped that he could start a family in real life, as well. He deserved that happiness.

                "There's no law that says the shield _has_ to be an Amicitia," Ignis said. "It's not as though we're in a shortage of people who can swing swords in Insomnia."

                "It's more complicated than that, and you know it. What if your kid didn't want to be king or queen someday?"

                It'd be a tough situation, but Ignis would never know it himself. "Then we'll have to crown one of Prompto's kids. Although, it would probably be a chocobo."

                "The future of Lucis is looking brighter than ever," Gladio quipped. "At least there isn't another war going on. It's hard to believe how different the Republic of Niflheim is to the empire."

                That's right. There was no empire anymore, and Gladio had struck down the emperor. Still, even in the fake Eos, Ignis couldn’t help but be bothered by not knowing one key fact.

                "Whatever happened to the Chancellor of Niflheim after the war?"

                "The chancellor?" Gladio echoed, bemused. "He was in that aircraft crash during the treaty signing, right? Why?"

                A crash. That sounded final. Ignis' shoulders sagged in relief. "Oh, I was just curious."

                "Anyways, enough about my problems. I think if you're ready, you should talk to Noct about the whole heir thing. You're not getting any younger." Gladio pat him on the shoulder and stood up. "I'm gonna go check on Diana. Thanks for the spar, Iggy."

                "My pleasure."

                Ignis remained the room minutes after Gladio left, considering their discussion. He didn't let himself entertain any more thoughts of raising a child with Noctis, nor did he think of fake Gladio's dilemma with his fake children, but the Republic of Niflheim was an anomaly of the Crystal he couldn't manage to wrap his head around. Even as he showered and headed to the council meeting, he wondered what exactly went down at the infamous treaty signing in this timeline.

                He managed a smile and nod to Noctis, who sat beside him at the long table. He heard King Regis call the meeting to order, but couldn't bring himself to really listen.

                Even if the attack on Tenebrae was thwarted by King Regis and Queen Sylva, that wouldn't have been enough of a victory to turn the tide of the war. The treaty signing still happened here. Ignis hadn't bothered to read up on the recent history of this Eos in the library, as he was focused only on information surrounding the Crystal and its nature. He wasn't sure, even if Gladio killed the emperor, that Niflheim would really cease all fighting and be reinvented as a republic.

                "… the harvest season is drawing near. I'll send word of this arrangement to the farm in Duscae by the weekend," a council member was saying.

                It's not like they'd ever really be short on firepower. Heaven knows how many MTs the empire had manufactured, especially given the research Prompto brought back from his investigation of his father's research facilities. As much as Ignis believed Ardyn Izunia was the mastermind of plenty of plots during the war, the Niflheim government was known to be full of power-hungry politicians, bent on conquering all of Eos. Even if the civilians banded together for a revolution around the time of the treaty, would that have been able to change so much in so little time? He supposed the Crystal's simulation rooted in Noctis' regrets didn't have to make too much sense, but since every other detail seemed so realistic, it was disconcerting to ponder.

                "… the matter of the Oracle's healing tour," another council member said, "which has been an opportune time to evaluate the strategic placement of Crownsguard for major events…"

                Not to mention the "death" of the chancellor. It was hard to believe such a man could be taken down so easily: he'd been the biggest thorn in their side on their journey, and even now the increased daemon activity and strength in the ruins of the true Insomnia was certainly his doing. They'd lost even the most experienced hunter trying to collect supplies from the wreckage. The man himself never seemed to die or even be gravely injured. He took a beating from someone wielding the Ring of the Luci'i like it was a pillow fight. Ignis had seen the distorted, oozing face Ardyn wore after Prompto tried to shoot him down in his nightmares. He was a cockroach you couldn't kill.

                "… the strange monster activity reported from the Niflheim border has been reported from Galahd, as well, which brings us to the request made by the former glaive…"

                He… literally couldn't die. Ignis paled at the realization. Even if he had presumably crashed in this world's version of the treaty signing, he wouldn't have been killed. If everyone believed him to have died, it meant that Ardyn had remained in the shadows all these years, which he must have spent adjusting his plans to destroy the Caelum line. Even without an entire empire at his command, he was resourceful and cunning. Who knows what he was scheming in hopes to kill Noctis?

                "… the number of orphans has decreased since the war, but there are still far too many for the current budget to support." Another council member was all but shouting, "If we do not support the next generations of Lucis, how will our country…"

                Normally, in a false world they were hopefully about to escape from, this wouldn't be concern for Ignis. However, he was no closer to discovering what was keeping Noctis from leaving, and if Ignis had learned one thing over the years since Insomnia's fall, it was that Ardyn would find a way to make any existing problem even worse. Plus, the real Ardyn had taken the Crystal itself into the heart of Gralea. They had no way of knowing if he somehow managed to tamper with it during its time there. They still didn't know the limits of Niflheim's superior technology and research…

                "… can we find a family for each of them? Regardless, they need to be better cared for where they are now…"

                Lunafreya had to know something. She had some hand in creating this world, if he understood her correctly. If he was lucky, she was still in Insomnia for the healing. He might be able to catch her before she left.

                Ignis sprung from his seat at the table and rushed for the door, ignoring the confused murmurs and gasps. He could faintly hear Noctis call after him, but he didn't look back.

               

-

 

                The Oracle was healing people in the city's largest square, on the steps of Insomnia's own Leville. Ignis could see plenty of Crownsguard along the large line of civilians, and detected the quickest and least conspicuous route around them.

                Nyx Ulric was positioned right next to the Oracle, who had her hands on an elderly woman with the scourge on her arms. The man seemed so startled to see Ignis march up to her that he just barely stopped Ignis from walking all the way up to her.

                "Lady Lunafreya, a word?" Ignis urged, loud enough for her to hear but not loud enough to cause a disturbance.

                "It will have to wait, Scientia," Nyx cut in firmly. He pushed Ignis a more appropriate distance away from his wife as she continued seeing to the ill civilian. "In case you didn't notice, she's a little busy at the moment."

                "It will only take a moment," he promised.

                "It can wait, like these people have since dawn." The ex-glaive wasn't having it. Well, neither was he.

                "Then they'll be fine waiting another ten minutes. Now if you'd _please_ let me through ̶ "

                "It's fine, Nyx," Lunafreya interrupted. She smiled at the elderly woman she'd been healing. "I've done all I can. You should see results by nightfall. Thank you for coming all this way."

                "Thank you, Your Ladyship." The woman bowed her head deeply and was guided away by a younger man.

                Lunafreya stood tall, addressing the line of people, "Thank you all for your patience. There is a matter I must see to, but worry not. I will return shortly. Please excuse me."

                Nyx looked less than pleased, but he seemed to understand it was something urgent enough for the Oracle to steal away to a private location. He stood guard outside the door and left Ignis and Lunafreya alone in a backroom in the hotel.   

                "Did you find a way out of the Crystal?" Lunafreya asked, her tone betraying the mask of calm she carried over from her healing session.

                "No, but we have another problem," Ignis said hastily. "Ardyn. Gladio told me about the treaty signing here, how the emperor was killed, but the chancellor was in an airship ̶ "

                "Chancellor Curvus." The Oracle remained unfazed by the information. "He escaped in an aircraft with some MTs, but he perished in a crash near Leide."

                Curvus? Ignis didn't recognize that name. The idea that Ardyn wasn't chancellor in this world was bewildering, but did little to quell the panic in his blood threatening to spill over. He pressed on, "In any case, Ardyn could still be out there in this realm. There have been reports of suspicious activity near the Niflheim border, and regardless of what did or didn't happen ten years ago, should he elect to strike now   ̶ "

                "Ardyn is dead, Ignis," she assured him. "He doesn't have a living counterpart here."

                Ignis stared. "That's… That's impossible. He's immortal. Shiva shattered him, I fought him with the _power of kings_ , Prompto shot him down at Gralea, we tried _everything_. He kept coming back. Only Noctis can kill him." And only by presumably giving his life, but Ignis didn't want to voice that.

                "You don't understand. He wasn't immortal in this world." She pursed her lips at his puzzled stare, looking as though she had resigned to swallow a lemon whole. "That… That was his regret."

                Why in the world should that matter? This world wasn't created for _him_. " _His_ regret? But… Noctis…"

                "Noctis had only one regret that was fixed: he wanted every person tied to the Crystal, each person that suffered because of the line of Lucis and their mistakes, to retrieve the happiness they had sacrificed. That was the foundation when the Crystal and I built this world."

                There was a pause, a heavy one, during which he couldn't get his brain to make sense of anything. His limbs suddenly felt very heavy, like the Oracle's words had seeped into his bones and held them down.

                "His one regret. All he ever wanted…" Luna smiled, casting her shimmering eyes downward. "He wanted a world where his loved ones could live peacefully. So, the Crystal fixed one regret of each person tied in some way to the Crystal. His father, the Crownsguard, the Glaives… his friends."

                She was giving him a sad, knowing look, but Ignis felt very much out of the loop.

                "Even Ardyn, who is connected to the Crystal as an ancestor of the Caelum bloodline. His immortality is tied to the curse that plagues him, so with it gone, so are his centuries of grief."

                Ignis should have been calmed by the Oracle's assurances. Instead, everything he thought he'd learned about this false haven had been shaken. The treaty signing being a true end to the war, the King and Oracle saving Tenebrae from Niflheim's control, the Republic of Niflheim instead of an army of innumerable MTs: they were all rosy-tinted falsehoods that he knew Noctis would prefer. It was his perfect life. His father and Luna were alive and well, and all his friends seemed happier…

                Yet, looking back with a critical eye, there were some things he _had_ questioned. Prompto's lack of reaction to his barcode tattoo for one, and Gladio's impossible final strike on the Emperor. These weren't fixed trauma of a prince so much as they were erased insecurities of his retainers, the ones destined to protect him, the _failures_ who huddled near his resting place each birthday for nine years.

                "He had no way of knowing what regrets would be fixed," Lunafreya continued. "Of course, he never cared at all about where Prompto came from or whom he was intended to be. It was his friend's regret that changed the empire's branding into a tattoo he chose to get on his eighteenth birthday. This Prompto has no idea of where he comes from, except that he's adopted by two doting parents."

                Ignis tried to follow along through the hurricane of thoughts wrecking his head. He should have known. He should have questioned Lunafreya further  ̶

                "Noctis wouldn't have wanted there to have to be a treaty signing, let alone the need for his Shield to defend him. Gladiolus… He always reminded me a bit of my brother. They'd rather be able to beat down a problem rather than dissect it, especially when those they love are involved." Her tone was wry, but her smile was soft.

                "What about you, Ignis? What was the regret the Crystal fixed for you?"

                She asked him, but she knew. Ignis didn't want to know. He tried to pull his heart back up from where it'd fallen in his chest. "Well, I would think it'd be rather obvious. I have my sight in this world."

                The Oracle let out a short laugh. "You truly believe your one regret was your blindness? You regret putting on the ring? Giving your sight so that Noctis could live?"

                "No." The response was immediate, instinctive. "Of course not."

                "Then think, Ignis," she urged gently, stepping a little closer. "Of all the things you've experienced here in the Crystal, what has  given you the most happiness?"

                He saw Noctis laughing, that enduringly fond look in his eyes, as he leaned in to kiss him.

                "I don't know," Ignis stammered. "Insomnia's standing, so many people are still alive, it's   ̶ it's hard to pick just one."

                She sent him a level look that made him recall giving feeble excuses to a tutor. It softened as the seconds dragged on without him finding a suitable reply. He broke the eye contact by adjusting his glasses.

                "Well, if Ardyn won't be a problem, I   ̶ I should probably get back to the books. Or the files. I haven't quite gotten through all ten years' worth of information, after all. I should… I should go."

                "Ignis," she said. The pity in her voice was infuriating. "It doesn't mean he   ̶ "

                "I'm sorry to have interrupted your healing." Ignis loathed the way his voice wobbled.

                "Ignis!"

                He didn't glance back at the Oracle as he fled the room, didn't answer Nyx's questioning as he sped out the hotel. He was on autopilot as he walked toward the apartment complex, his mind in a haze. It wasn't until halfway to his destination that his brain managed to rediscover words.

                He was such a fool. He'd been so enamored by his new life, by this perfect world, that he hadn't questioned their marriage as much as he should have. No wonder he'd been so surprised by Noct's love: it hadn't been his friend's feelings that crafted this fairytale romance, but his own. He'd tried to deny it, but Ignis had always known: he loved Noctis more than he ever should. It was inappropriate for an advisor to feel this way for his king, for a friend to twist their relationship in such a fashion. Noctis had never given him any indication of romantic love. Did the Crystal give him false feelings along with these false memories? Was this Ignis' fault? Did he strip him of his free will once again, like he had when he hadn't disclosed his visions to the mourning prince?

                But gods, the way Noctis had _looked_ at him. It seemed so natural, so genuine. The way he said "I love you." The way he touched him like he was the most precious thing in his world. It was everything he ever wanted, but at what cost? When he finally took Noctis from the Crystal, not only would he be leading him from heaven to hell, to a sacrificial altar, but he'd also be shedding light on this betrayal. He hadn't meant any of this to happen, but it was his doing nonetheless.

                It _was_ his biggest regret: never being able to confess his true feelings for Noctis, never getting the chance to court him like an ordinary man. He'd never been in a position to show Noctis how beautiful and wonderful he thought he was. He could never tell him he was worth the sun and the darkness and ever star stolen from the sky. He kept reminding himself of the friends he'd left behind in the real Eos, how they suffered from the scourge, only so he wouldn't convince himself to sacrifice it all for one man's life. It scared him how much he wanted to.

                What would Noctis think of him once he learned the truth? Would he be ashamed? Disgusted? Would he hate him even more as they marched him off to his death?

                He watched the apartment elevator doors close before him, his distorted appearance reflected in the doors. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that Noctis had to die. It wasn't fair that he had to live in such a fantastic lie. It wasn't fair that Ignis was going to lose him in every sense of the word.

                The elevator lurched to a stop and the doors opened to reveal a harried-looking Noctis waiting in the hallway. The stress on his features dissipated when he caught sight of Ignis, which only served to make the advisor feel even more guilty.

                "Gods, Ignis," Noct breathed, stepping forward to take him in his arms. "I've been calling you like crazy. Did something happen? Are you all right?"

                Ignis' eyes burned behind his glasses. He had been hoping to retreat to the apartment alone, but he should have known better than to think his sudden departure from the council meeting hadn't alarmed the prince. There must have been a search party out for him.

                "I'm sorry," he murmured into Noctis' shoulder. "I don't know what came over me. I must have scandalized the council."

                "Don't worry about that. Come on."

                Noctis guided Ignis to their door, taking the keys from him when his hands fumbled unlocking it. Before he knew it, he was on the couch, Noctis holding his hand. They sat in silence for a few minutes. It was hardly enough time for Ignis to compose himself, especially when the source of his pain was literally clinging onto him.

                In the silence, Ignis wondered if he should simply spill the whole truth right there, Lunafreya's advice be damned. Noctis deserved to know. No matter how he may look at Ignis afterwards, it was the right thing to do. Ignis was going to open his mouth to say _something_ , astrals knew what would come out first, but Noctis beat him to the punch.

                "I… think I know what this is about. Why you've been acting so weird lately. You've been scared that I don't feel the same way about our future. I'm gonna be honest: I don't want things to change. I don't think I'm ready, or that I'll ever be ready. I didn't want to talk about it, because that would make it a real thing."

                He held his breath. Could Noctis have figured it out on his own? How was he going to react?

                "But I talked to Gladio a little earlier, and I know you and dad were talking about it at the party the other day, and I know you really want this, but you're scared I don't. But… I do. I _do_ want it. I'm just scared shitless that I'm going to mess it up, like I am with everything else."

                Despite himself, Ignis turned to Noctis quizzically. What _was_ he talking about?

                Noctis sighed deeply before he turned to smile shakily at Ignis. "Okay… Let's do it. I'm ready to be a father."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Ignis.


	7. now you know that you are real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The blonds in Ignis's life give him some much needed advice, but not before the poor guy has a bit of a breakdown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hoo boy sorry for the wait! But I hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! This one was particular tough for me, but I hope it's in character and feels natural enough. We'll be getting into some moving plot soon, but this was an event that had to happen first. Thanks for reading!

                The kingdom of Lucis had never rivaled the lengths the Niflheim Empire would go to mold perfection in its soldiers, but Ignis had been briefly trained in his late teens on how not to break down in torture or other events of emotional duress. The training itself was impractical   ̶ there was no way Cor or Clarus would ever sanction the actual torture of the Crownsguard   ̶ but the future advisor to the Crown took it to heart, using the information taught to help control his emotions in battle or on the run from the Empire. He knew there needed to be at least one member of their group that kept a level head at all times, and he certainly wasn't going to expect any of the three traumatized young men to carry that burden. Prompto was barely a full-fledged Crownsguard, and the other two had just received confirmation that their fathers were dead. Not to mention that, as an advisor, Ignis's literal job was to be logical in the midst of crisis.

                Even after darkness fell, Ignis remembered his training, never breaking down in public and hardly ever displaying his distress for the world to see. He'd become a master of compartmentalization, shoving his anxieties in the back of his mind while in the presence of those equally wearied by the ruined world and maintaining his composure until he could find a private place to ride out his panic attacks. People would comment on how strong he was through the trauma of every darkness he had to face, whether it be his blindness or losing his home or surviving in a world without sunlight, but he wasn't strong. He simply remained the fruits of his diplomatic training. In fact, most of his anguish had been over his own weakness: too weak to save Noctis, too weak to stop Ardyn, too weak to save the light.

                Despite his occasional secret emotional outburst, Ignis never remembered truly getting to a point in which he reached a breaking point, whether in emotion or sanity. Until this day ̶ these tumultuous two days, actually ̶ which had ultimately led up to the moment that the man he loved so much he unintentionally brainwashed into loving him back told him that he wanted to be a father.

                Ignis wasn't sure how long the two of them sat there staring at each other in silence, one earnest and the other in genuine shock. Then, unbidden, he felt an odd sort of chuckle rise from his throat. He then fell into a manic bout of laughter, loud and uncontained and unlike any laughter he could recall himself expressing. It was incredulous laughter, primarily, the man so overcome by the most bizarre and painful set of circumstances he'd ever faced in such a short time, his laughter so hard he started crying. Then the laughter faded into nothing but embarrassingly-heavy sobbing.

                "Specs?" Noctis voiced nervously, placing a hand on his shoulder. He looked, through the screen of tears in Ignis's eyes, truly concerned for his husband's wellbeing. "Babe, you're scaring me."

                "Apologies," is what Ignis wanted to say, but he suddenly couldn't even manage to speak one word. He could barely even look up at his friend, his prince, his love. His forehead fell just under Noct's neck, and Noctis responded by gently removing his glasses and cuddling him closer. Ignis mused between unseemly sniffling that his dress shirt was going to be very damp.

                Noctis held him for a long moment, the only sound being Ignis's embarrassing hiccups and gasps. Then the prince let out a stuttered breath that sounded like he was on the edge of crying, too. "Gods, I'm so sorry, Ignis. I thought… I thought you wanted… but I shouldn't have brought it up now, when you're like this. I… I didn't mean to make you more upset."

                Ignis shook his head as much as he could against Noct's chest ."It's not _you_ ," he muttered into the fabric, then lifted his head to meet the prince's glassy eyes. "You… You've done nothing but make me so _happy_."

                "Then why are you crying?" Noctis asked, cupping his cheek and smearing tears with his thumb. "What can I do to help you? What do you need?"

                "Just…" Ignis swallowed hard, gingerly removing the hand from his cheek and lowering his head back to Noct's chest. "Let me stay like this, just for a while."

                So he did. Noctis let his husband cry himself out in his arms, rubbing his back and kissing the top of his head, remaining a silent but steady comfort for a pain he didn't know about.

                Ignis didn’t know how long they sat there, but it was as though ten years worth of tears poured out of him at once. Once he started crying, Ignis couldn't stop: he tried to reason with his body, that it was useless to waste all this time crying into his king's chest. Tears wouldn't fix his mistakes, nor would it do anything for Noctis's fate. The more he thought about the situation, however, the more he cried.

                He thought of his ill-fated fancy for his friend, memories of their relationship resurfacing that he now saw in a different light. He could see himself loving Noctis in the seconds he stole to smile at him at the campfire. He saw it in the stitches sewn into mended school shirts. He saw it in soccer balls sent flying at solemn-looking statues, in tiny hands grasping at each other as two kids ran from a stern-looking Crownsguard. Hands that reached out for a kid who couldn't reach far enough to save a princess; a hand offered to a shy little boy he could never have known would mean so much beyond duty.

                He thought of his duty, first to a kingdom and then to a ragtag group made from many kingdoms. He thought of comrades, friends he couldn't save, and those who were waiting on him in the dark both literally and figuratively. Gladio and Prompto didn't know Ignis had left to retrieve the only person who could restore the light, but they were counting on him all the same, and Ignis wasn't sure he could do it. He knew he would tell Noctis the truth eventually, but even when he did…

                They were still stuck in the Crystal. Ignis had yet to learn any information to help them escape. What if he couldn't find anything? What if they were trapped here forever, and everything they fought for died on the other side because Shiva sent the wrong man to help?

                But to save the world, Ignis couldn't help reminding himself, was to lead Noct by the hand to the slaughter. He would rip him from this perfect world into one ruined by the starscourge, and ruin a perfect marriage by allowing him to realize it was something he never truly agreed to.

                Ignis had always been the mature one the group, the one who always had a plan at the ready, the one who was reliable and responsible for making sure everything ran smoothly and everyone else had what they needed. But he wasn't. It was all a farce. He was really just a boy who couldn't help anyone.

                Exhausted, Ignis let himself be selfish for one more moment, letting the heartbeat against his ear lull him into unconsciousness.

 

 

-

 

 

                "I don't know. He started acting weird yesterday morning? Said he was fine, but then Luna had to help him with a headache…"

                Ignis woke up to one half of a whispered conversation. It seemed that Noctis had been trying not to wake him up, but he'd never been a light sleeper. He heard the dull thud of a cabinet closing in the kitchen.

                "No, no, I've seen him have those, too, but this wasn't like _that_. He was just… acting weird. Maybe he looked a little sick? I don't know. I realize this isn't much to go on, but…"

                He must have been talking with someone on the phone judging by the long pauses.

                "I don't give a damn what they're saying about that. It's not like Ignis hasn't been the picture of perfection in every other meeting he's ever been to in his life. He hates drawing attention to himself, so just the fact that he stormed out like that means something's wrong, and he won't tell me what it is, and I'm scared to push because I don't want to make him more upset… and I think maybe it might be me."

                Ignis's heart clenched as he listened to Noctis's voice rise in both volume and distress.

                Noctis lowered his voice. "Sorry, Mr. Scientia. I didn't mean… I shouldn't be unloading this stuff on you, but you're like a father to him. I thought maybe he'd talked to you about it? Has he said anything to you?"

                His uncle was on the other line? Ignis strained to hear his voice, but there was a long moment of silence. He couldn't tell what he was saying from his distance. He wanted to lift his head and look for Noct's expression, but he didn't want to ruin his chance to eavesdrop.

                Noct sighed. "I know. I'll try. I just… hope he lets me help."

                Oh, _Noct_. If only he understood what was really happening, if Ignis could just explain _everything_ going on beyond his knowledge…

                "Yeah, I'll get on those right now. I think he said it was going to be a mass email?"

                His voice faded as he walked into another room and softly shut the door.

                Ignis didn't even try to go back to sleep. He stared up at the ceiling, vision blurry without his glasses, and began his first draft of the explanation he was going to offer Noctis about his behavior. Lunafreya had instructed him to act like nothing was amiss, but he'd already made a spectacular mess of that plan in the first place. If Noctis forgot the truth tomorrow morning as she predicted he would, then hopefully he'd forget Ignis sobbing in his arms like a child.

                Noctis was upset and confused without knowing the truth. If Ignis had to cause him pain, he at least wanted him to be hurt over the right things: the world of darkness, being stuck in the Crystal, or his free will being stripped from him. Ignis' own feelings should be the least of his problems.

                He must have lain there for at least a half hour, still stuck on how to break the news that Ignis had foreseen the prince's death in Altissia because a mystical dog gave him a vision, when a knock on the door startled Ignis out of his contemplation. Noctis was still in the back room, and he couldn't hear a door opening. Ignis figured the person at the door was a concerned Crownsguard member ready to tell him off, even Gladio or Cor, so he reluctantly stood to answer the call. He prayed it wasn't a Crystal-exclusive friend he wasn't aware of, at least.

                Prompto answered the door, looking slightly out of breath, as though he'd jogged his way over.

                "Prompto? Is something the matter?" Ignis inquired, stepping aside to let him into the apartment.

                "You tell me," Prompto said with a shrug. "Luna basically threatened me with violence to deliver a message for you, since _apparently_ you weren't answering any of her calls. You know, I always said I would die for her, but for a minute there I really thought I would."

                "A message? For me?" Ignis tried not to let the dread creep up into his face. He'd completely forgotten about his cell phone. Of course people would be trying to contact him: the Oracle herself had been calling him after he'd fled her presence in tears. It was a painful and embarrassing end to their conversation, and he didn't want to have another round of pitying consolations thrown his way. He had to face the consequences of his actions like a man, like the Crownsguard he'd always trained to be, and he'd handle his apology to Lunafreya after his apology to Noctis.

                "Yep. Told me to read it word for word." Prompto pulled out his phone, reading Lunafreya's words from a text. "She says, and I quote, 'Your regret has no affect on free will. The Crystal only channels the heart and cannot control it. The feelings expressed by the two of you are what have always been, genuine and untainted by the Crystal's illusions. Your fears are unfounded and you are a fool to not have known from the start.'"

                Against his will, a last remaining shard of hope rose up his chest. He tried to stomp it back down. He must have misheard. Or perhaps the Oracle would lie just to calm the servant Shiva sent to save the Savior.

                "She said that? She told you to tell me that?" His voice was small and almost shy: he couldn't dare believe her words were true.

                "Yeah, and your lucky numbers are 4, 6, 15, and 30," Prompto quipped, looking as bewildered as Ignis felt. "Do you… Do you want me to forward that to you in written form? It was kinda wordy."

                "Yes," Ignis heard himself say awfully quick, "I… I would very much appreciate that."

                "Sure thing," Prompto said. He fiddled with his phone while Ignis tried to catch his breath. When he was finished, he looked up at Ignis with a nervous smile. "So, uh… Can I ask what that was about, or…?"

                "You can," Ignis said.

                The blond looked pleasantly surprised. "What was that about?"

                "None of your business."

                Prompto's shoulders slumped. "I don't know what I expected."

                Ignis was only half-aware of their conversation. What if Lunafreya was telling him the truth? That Noctis had fallen in love with him naturally, and not because of his regret? What would that mean? Wasn't his regret that he couldn't be romantically involved with Noctis? But gods, how could he even know for sure, anyway? It's not like the Crystal left a written receipt of regrets for Noctis to catalogue.

                His head spun. Ever since he woke up in the Crystal's fantasy, he wasn't ever sure _what_ to think. On one hand, everything looked and felt so _real_ , from the likeness of his loved ones to the sensation of eating food tastier than he had in almost a decade. Still, it'd all happened so fast with no time to prepare himself, and at some points he'd felt like he was wading through the thick fog of a dream. And he _was_ dreaming: he had to be. The Crystal surely couldn't fabricate an entire alternate dimension, could it? He and Noctis must be under the influence of some potent hallucinogen  the mystical stone was producing, like the spells of confusion wildlife would inflict in the forests of Lucis. That's what he had to keep telling himself when faced with near-perfect clones of his comrades from the real Eos.

                But Noctis was just as real as Ignis was. He seemed like a dream, so affectionate and handsome and a far cry from the insecure prince thrust into kinghood when his father was struck down, but he was the only other true self in the city. The emotions Ignis saw in his eyes seemed genuine, but he'd never been a good judge of people's intentions when it came to social cues or feelings. He wasn't even sure he'd be able to discern whether or not Lunafreya was lying to him, especially given her disposition for politics.

                "Well, not to butt into your business, but if that has anything to do with you and Noct, your fears really are unfounded."

                Ignis had momentarily forgotten Prompto was still there, but he was looking at him with an expression that was too understanding for the advisor's taste.

                "Noct may not talk about how he's feeling that much, but when he does, he's honest about it. He's pretty easy to read," Prompto said. "If he says something to you, he means it. Especially if it's about something important."

                He was right about that, Ignis supposed. But there were so many other factors. He wished he could have Prompto's confidence about their relationship.

                Prompto lifted his hands in surrender. "But! You know, none of my business. I just… I know you two have something special. I hope you guys realize that too."

                "Thank you, Prompto," Ignis said quietly. Prompto was right: romantic or not, Noctis and Ignis had always shared a special bond that was strengthened by time and trial. What Ignis was really worried about, deep down, was that this would be the trial that dented it. But Noctis was kind, and Ignis was loyal. They'd get through this somehow.

                And if what Lunafreya was implying was true…

                Well, maybe it wasn't entirely _impossible_.

                "Anytime, Iggy." Prompto beamed. "Well, my work here is done. I'll go let Luna know she doesn’t have to hide my body."

                "I imagine that Nyx would have been the one to hide it, anyway," Ignis said. "She wouldn't want to dirty her white dress."

                "You always know how to make me feel better," the blond joked, though he may have sounded a tad nervous. "On that note, I'm outta here."

                Ignis bid Prompto farewell and went for the phone in his pocket as soon as the front door clicked shut. The screen flashed an accusing number of missed calls, voicemails, and texts that Ignis dreaded sorting through later, but he ignored them for the moment. He scrolled through his phone contacts for Lady Lunafreya's number and pressed it.

                Ignis was surprised when she answered almost immediately.

                "For an advisor to the Crown, you are incredibly foolish," was her prim greeting.

                Ignis huffed a laugh. "You're not wrong, Your Highness. But before you continue the justified verbal thrashing, may I offer a humble apology for my behavior this afternoon?"

                "The only thing you have to apologize for is your lack of faith, Ignis," Lunafreya admonished. "In Noctis and in yourself."

                "I… But how can you _know_?" Ignis asked. "The Crystal holds all sorts of power  ̶  we haven't even begun to decrypt what's keeping Noctis trapped within it. It has the power to absorb daemons and weaken Astrals. It prophesied the darkness. If my regret was… If I wanted _this_ with Noct, couldn't it have the power to make it a reality, despite his original feelings for me?"

                "Would you _want_ it to? Even in the darkest depths of your desire?"

                Despite how horrible the mere thought of that was, Ignis allowed himself to consider the possibility. He'd _hate_ it. He hated it now. More than anything, he wanted Noctis to be happy, and that couldn't come from forcing him into something he didn't really want. Not only did the Crown Prince of Lucis have enough of that in his life, but the very idea of controlling another person's feelings was abhorrent. Ignis would never wish for such a thing, even through the heartbreak of not being with Noctis romantically.

                "Of course not," he answered.

                "Then why would the Crystal do that, even if it could? Rest assured it _can't_. The Crystal, for all its amazing powers, could never hope to shift the heart of the Chosen King. The Astrals would use that for far greater causes than romantic drama," Lunafreya pointed out, a touch amused. "It would have saved the world a great deal of trouble if they'd given him the desire to do everything they wanted him to. And _you_ , who could hardly get Noctis to eat one vegetable, could never hope to exceed their power."

                Fair point. Still, Ignis couldn't help but search for some flaw in her theory, some reason Noctis was suddenly in love with _him_. Wasn't he just the nagging friend that took his job too seriously? That reminded him of his obligations, whose idea of fun was cooking puns and watching stars twinkle in place for hours? Surely he'd prefer Prompto, a lively and attractive civilian who made everyone feel comfortable in his presence? Or Gladio, who had the perfect body and knew the intricacies of romance just as well as he knew how to singlehandedly ward off ten men at a time? Ignis was far from insecure in his own worth: he knew he was most intelligent of their group, and his strategies were what allowed them to make it to Gralea so long ago. But certainly planning political maneuvers and travel logistics weren't considered attractive to a young, hip prince.

                "But he… He didn't hold me in such a regard before the Crystal."

                "He certainly never told _you_ of such feelings," the Oracle said. "He only told me after I figured it out myself. I believe it was because I was hundreds of miles away and in no position to tattle. Still, for a boy that would write in such short sentences, he was painfully obvious about it. I'd ask him about Lucian news' positions on major stories and he'd send me pictures of you standing in front of the television. I could only read half the headlines."

                His cheeks burned.

                "Don't even get me started on the pictures from the training room ̶"

                "Yes, yes, you've made your point," Ignis cut in hastily. Dear _gods_ was this a conversation he never expected to have with the Oracle. Even if the idea of Noct sneaking pictures of him was alarmingly flattering. Having his privacy invaded in such a way shouldn't be considered cute by any means, of course. But the idea of Noctis shyly sticking photos of _him_ for Umbra to send to Lunafreya, like he was a schoolboy gushing about a crush, made his heart feel a bit lighter.

                He heard her chuckle into the phone. "My _point_ being that you shouldn't be concerned about whether or not he shares your affections. Your regret was simply the catalyst that brought the two of you together."

                Ignis fell back against the wall, suddenly dizzy. She… she _sounded_ honest in her words.

                Lunafreya let him digest this information for a long moment of silence. Then, "We have time to figure out how to get you and Noctis home. I have some texts I can peruse from Tenebrae, and I'm sure you haven't exhausted all your resources in the Citadel. I don't know what our journey will look like, but I do know this: Noctis is the Chosen King destined to bring back the light, and it is love that will be his greatest weapon. I know everything must seem so dire right now, but not all of it is. Not all the light is gone."

                Ignis shook his head with a smile. "You certainly have a speech for every occasion, Your Ladyship."

                "And if you want to hear the one about Noctis's inappropriate training room photos, then stay on the line," Lunafreya said. "But I would think you have other business to attend to."

                "I believe you're right," Ignis agreed, his tone softening. "Thank you, Lady Lunafreya."

                "The pleasure is mine, Your Highness."

                He hung up, the smile on his face growing. An undignified giddiness bubbled up within him; he felt like he did two mornings ago, waking up next to a man he'd always refused to acknowledge his devotion for. This time, though, it didn't come with a shock as much as it did a gentle warmth. He hurried down the hallway past pictures of Noctis and him happy and together.

                Looking back, Ignis would realize how utterly ridiculous he was, fretting about such a thing in the midst of a mission to save the world from ruin. But hope, as many people on Eos had learned during the decade of darkness, had a way of turning the most logical people into foolish dreamers. So, caught up in a dream created not only by a prince but by the dreamers connected to him, Ignis threw the bedroom door open.

                Noctis was on his laptop on the bed, listening to something through some earphones. It was probably why he hadn't heard Prompto.

                Ignis took a moment to appreciate the sight, seeing him anew with the knowledge that, quite probably, this man genuinely loved him back. This man married him because he truly wanted to; he'd proposed because he loved him. He let himself fully believe it just for a second, and his breath caught in his throat.

                Sensing his presence, Noctis glanced up and tugged the headphones out of his ears without delay. "Ignis?" he called. "What's wrong?"

                "Nothing," Ignis said, and for the first time he was honest. Nothing was wrong. In fact, for the first time in years, everything was beginning to look rather _good_.

                Noctis stood and walked over to study his face, clearly unconvinced. "Are you sure? You seem a little... excited."

                "Did you mean it?" Ignis asked quickly instead of answering the question. "You… You want us to raise a child together?"

                His husband looked surprised. His expression softened as he took Ignis's hands in his own, his blue eyes so fond Ignis couldn't help but believe he truly did want him, that Noctis was in love with _him_ , and he very seriously said, "Yeah, Iggy. I do."

                Ignis kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> #letIgnisbehappy2k18  
> Listen, this fic is mine and it is going to be cheesy af at some points because we need it.


	8. show your friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ignis enjoys a brief respite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for being patient through the long waits between chapters! I really hope it's worth the wait!  
> Ignis has finally let himself enjoy what the Crystal has to offer, but he's no closer to finding out what's keeping Noctis back. (But he has bigger problems than the fate of reality: his own hormones.)

                Gaining sight after nine long years without it was like discovering the missing puzzle piece under a couch and finally being able to complete the picture. Kissing Noctis, Ignis quickly learned, was very much the same. Oh, he thought, _this_ is what I was missing. His world seemed to slot into focus.

                Ignis's first initiated kiss was tentative and a tad awkward; he lacked the near-decade of experience Noctis had of fitting their lips together. It started as a slow pressing of his mouth to Noct's, then an experimental movement, and then Noctis very gingerly grabbing the back of his neck and taking control, as though he could sense how nervous his husband was about this particular kiss.

                It was heavenly. Noctis had to rise on his tiptoes to fully meet him, and Ignis had to lower himself in return, but he barely noticed the awkward positioning. When his eyes fluttered close, he didn't notice the lack of sight reminiscent to his reality. He did notice that his husband's chapped lips tasted like that terribly-unhealthy soda he used to crave back in Insomnia, and he didn't mind the taste so much on Noct's lips. He was too busy feeling the scratchiness of Noct's shave under his fingertips as he cupped a cheek. He didn't know if Noct could tell he was inexperienced, if he was making rookie mistakes his Crystal counterpoint wouldn't, but he couldn't find it in himself to care. He couldn't imagine it feeling any better than _this_ : the warmth of his lover's lips and arms and the warmth pooling at the bottom of his stomach.

                While the small section of Ignis's brain that retained the capability for reason thought sitting down would make the height difference less of an issue   ̶ and perhaps prevent Ignis from swooning onto his knees in his bliss   ̶ it still forgot that Noct's computer chair had wheels at the bottom. Ignis's rear accidentally pushed the seat away, and the two of them collapsed into a slightly bruised and giggling heap on the floor.

                "You okay, babe?" Noctis's blue eyes twinkled with mirth, the light fixture under the ceiling fan a halo behind his head.

                The grin on Ignis's face stretched further than it ever had as he brushed some strands of hair out of the prince's face. "Never better." He chased Noct's lips once more, but his husband pushed him back.

                "Are you?" Noctis readjusted Ignis's glasses on his nose. "Because an hour ago you were, like, kind of a mess."

                An understatement. Ignis huffed. "That I was. Apologies."

                "Stop apologizing, just…" He sighed. "Talk to me. Whatever it is, I want to know. Let me help."

                Ignis hesitated. He had been so certain he wanted to tell Noctis everything: the Crystal, the darkness, his regrets, and everything between. Now…

                "I'm scared," he admitted. "Everything is so perfect. I don't want it to change."

                "It doesn't have to. Or maybe it does, but it only gets better," Noctis offered, an optimism he hadn't heard from his lips in such a long time. Even before leaving Insomnia, he'd always seemed so resigned to his fate, to seeing his father wither at an early age and eventually taking that burden for himself. Despite the wrinkles around Noct's eyes, there was a youthfulness to their blue, and it was as magical as when those eyes would turn red in the heat of battle.

                To think Noctis could be so happy here, and that Ignis was a part of that joy. " _Nothing_ could be better than this," he said.

                The prince laughed, a flush to his cheeks. " _Gods_ , you are the corniest man on Eos. So embarrassing." But he crawled onto Ignis's lap to wrap his arms around his neck.

                "Well, forgive me for being heartfelt and honest," Ignis retorted, though he enjoyed the new sensation of having his prince straddling his thighs.

                "More like sappy and cheesy."

                "Cheesy? I thought my words were _cheddar_ that that."

                "No!" Noctis threw his head back in exasperation.

                "Don't _string_ me along like this if my advances are _nacho_ cup of tea."

                "Do-on't!" he wailed.

                "Maybe I'm the one who's too _cool_ -by for you ̶"

                "Stop, you monster!" And his husband covered his mouth with his own to stop the madness. Ignis could feel his grin against his mouth.

                It started out much the same as their previous kiss, but then their hands started roaming. and then there was more than one tongue in his mouth. Ignis arched himself up into the kiss, but when Noctis's lips traveled to the uncharted territory of his neck, he panicked. Kissing was wonderful, but what if they   ̶ if it went too far  ̶ wouldn't it be taking advantage of him? They weren't _really_ married, and Noctis's mind could _still_ change, couldn't it? And Ignis was so inexperienced in this matter… but good _gods_ did that feel nice.

                "As, uh… _gouda_ as this is," Ignis tried to tamper the nerves in his voice, "I should probably get started on the many apology emails I have to draft to the council."

                "Mm-hmm," Noct hummed, teeth grazing the skin of his neck.

                "Noct," the advisor tried to admonish, but it came out a little too keenly.

                There was a rush of air against his neck. "Fine. Reel me in with puns and hang me out to dry. Such a tease."

                Relieved, Ignis gave Noctis a couple more pecks on the lips. " _Someone_ has to be the responsible one." In more ways than one, Ignis convinced himself, trying to appear composed despite the red shade of his face.

                "Hey, _you_ kissed _me,_ " Noctis said. He stood, offering a hand to help his husband to his feet. "Need any help with those apology letters?"

                "Go ahead and finish whatever I rudely interrupted. I'll finish up the letters and get started on dinner."

                "Okay," he said warily. Ignis turned to leave, but felt a tug at his wrist. "Hey, uh… You’re sure? You're… okay now?"

                Ignis smiled warmly. "I'm sure. We can… talk more later, if you want."

                "Yeah. Let's."

 

-

 

                "So, uh… about what I told you earlier..." Noctis stirred his daggerquill rice around his bowl.

                "About how you were turned on by my cheese puns?" Ignis prodded, after his husband hesitated a tad too long.

                A glare was sent his way. "Not that. The kid thing?"

                "Oh." That's right. Ignis had nearly forgotten about his husband's confession. He had quickly gotten wrapped up in the bliss of Noctis having romantic inclinations toward him that he never stopped to contemplate his answer to the proposal. "That. Well…"

                The image of Noctis cradling a babe in his arms was sweet. So was the image of a toddler taking his first steps toward him, of Noctis making it laugh, of Ignis reading it stories.

                He pictured Daisy's shy smile, and a pang hit his heart.

                He speared a piece of meat a little too harshly with his fork. "Let's wait a few more months, just to be sure."

                "'To be sure'? Really?" Noctis asked, incredulous. "I've seen the list of baby names at the back of your notebook, babe. That sounds sure to me."

                He _what_? He… must really have been thinking about having a child. He wondered how long his Crystal counterpart had been seriously considering it. A few years? Ever since they were married? Could the Crystal's reflections even "want" at all?

                What did _Noctis_ really want?

                "And you?" he asked. "Are you sure? Or did you offer to become a father when you thought it would help my mental breakdown?"

                Noctis's face crumpled. "You don't think I'm taking this seriously?"

                His heart clenched. Ignis reached across the table to take his lover's hand. "That's not what I meant. I just want to be sure we're ready. It's a big responsibility."

                "I know." The prince must have been thinking about his own father, who never had enough time to spend with his son among all his royal duties. It wasn't as though they were going to get _more_ free hours for parenting themselves, but with the combined efforts of two fathers, perhaps they'd have a better time of it.

                Or, they _would_ , if it were ever going to happen. Even when they left the Crystal, the visions Ignis had seen…

                "A few months, then," Noctis said.

                Ignis couldn't stop the large swoop of air leaving from his mouth in relief. "Thank you." He rubbed his thumb over the skin of Noct's hand.

                He smiled, blue eyes crinkling. "I have to say, though… I've gotten a little excited about it."

                "That's… good to hear." If only   ̶ if _only_ ̶ that excitement could be enough.

                Noctis turned his hand over to trail his fingers down his lover's palm. "That doesn't mean I won't make the most of these last few months having you all to myself."

                Ignis ducked his head, a little embarrassed but very flattered.

                Noctis laughed. "You're still so flustered after all these years."

                That did little to help him collect himself. "It still feels new to me, I suppose." He felt like a love-struck teenager, blushing and swooning at every sweet word. He cleared his throat. "I, uh, didn't get a chance to review what I missed from the council meeting earlier, if you wouldn't mind recounting it."

               

-

 

                Days passed, and Ignis juggled "royal duties" with his research into the Crystal and prophecy. If his administrative work was lacking, no one on the council told him so; they hadn't even mentioned his storming out. Ignis figured King Regis himself had something to do with that.

                Ignis had been too distracted to pay much attention to the king's living presence during his first council meeting, but at the subsequent ones, he found his eyes drawn to Regis rather often. He'd thought he had properly mourned the king's death ten years prior, but looking at a healthier yet just as kind image of the man made him wonder if he'd ever stop. King Regis had asked Ignis at a young age to stand at Noctis's side as a brother, and in time Ignis began to look to him as a father figure in his life. Their love may not have been as "brotherly" as the king had wanted, but marrying into the family must have done nothing but make the fatherly role more apparent, no pun intended. Of course, both of their busy schedules never permitted time for Ignis to seek him out for a conversation. It wasn't _really_ him, but… he wondered if it would be remiss of him to find a moment to thank him. For letting him stand next to Noctis all these years, for blessing their "marriage," for getting Noctis and them out of the city for the attack   ̶ as angry as they had been about that at first, that probably saved their lives. A world without Noctis, Gladio, or Prompto was a world he didn't want to imagine.

                When he wasn't in the libraries or offices seeking their escape, he spent every minute he could with Noctis. Talking to him, kissing him, even sitting with him in silence. When he became too frustrated with lack of progress with his research, a headache sinking its claws into his brain and sucking the energy to keep going out of his veins, he'd find Noctis somewhere in the Citadel. If the prince wasn't in an important meeting, he'd take him by the hand and out into the streets of Insomnia. Ignis would drive like he'd never stopped years before, instinct taking over, his blindness no longer hindering him. They'd even abscond with the Regalia. An Ebony would sit in the cup holder, Noct in the front seat, and the wind would tousle their hair as they sped down the Insomnian highways.

                Ignis would take them to landmarks from his memory: cafes, shops, parks. He even surprised Noctis with a visit to the arcade, making him throw back his head and laugh before promising to teach Ignis how to play his old favorites. The kids didn't seem to recognize Noctis as the Crown Prince, but as an old master at first person shooters, crowding around him to watch him take back his high score.

                In their intimate moments, they never escalated past heavy make out sessions, much to Ignis's relief. He'd been worried that his reluctance to… ah, consummate their union, would be seen as odd or even an act of distancing himself. However, Noctis was ever so patient and understanding, just as passionate and affectionate in the way he touched him, even if it may not have been in all the same places he touched his Crystal counterpoint.

                It also helped that Ignis found himself showering Noctis in affection every little chance he could get. He had never been one to show his affection openly through touch or words, and he was hardly composing love ballads to serenade his lover with in public, but Ignis was doing things he hadn't done before. His gloves remained off so he could savor the feeling of Noct's hand slipping into his. Reaching his arm around Noct's waist to finger his belt loops while waiting in line for coffee didn't seem as improper as it would have once upon a time. It didn't take long for Ignis to stop averting his gaze when Noctis caught him staring, either. Instead, he'd offer the tiniest lift of his lips, which Noctis would return with his own. The ever-present happiness was somehow both frightening and serene at the same time. It was a natural development to their lifelong friendship, easy and right.

                The one time he _might_ have gone overboard in the panic of a new relationship, he spontaneously bought a bouquet of flowers to bring to Noctis during his lunch break. Noctis looked from the bouquet in his hand to the arrangement of those sent to him on his birthday only a handful of days before, an impressive amount that lined the long windowsill. He'd laughed off his husband's silent attempt to evaporate out of existence and kissed him hard on the mouth, saying that bouquet was his new favorite.   

                It was alarmingly easy to get used to this life, to sunlight and skyscrapers and the safety of a world untouched by the horrors of reality. Here, he didn't have to worry about what he was going to eat and how much and when, or whether it was eight in the morning or at night, or if there was enough light to ward the daemons away from his bed while he slept. It was easy to hide those memories away, pretend that the darkness was the dream and that this beautiful, peaceful life was the truth. It was so easy when he held Noctis in his arms. Then, he would see a loved one he hadn't in years, or one he saw just before being sucked into the Crystal. He would see one less scar on Gladio's face or a camera in Prompto's hands, and he would remember. His memories of Eos as it truly was now were not in images, but in the sound of sighs and moans of humans and daemons alike.  It was in the chill of eternal night and of wondering if that conversation would been the last he'd ever have with that person.

                That's not to say his brotherhood with the mirages of Prompto and Gladio didn't feel as deep and lifelike as the real ones. The Crystal spared no detail, from Gladio's snort of a laugh to the way Prompto would kick his heel on the ground while standing in one place longer than a minute. Prompto still snapped away at his camera like he used to back when there was light to see his subjects with, occasionally pulling a friend in for an unannounced selfie. Gladio had brought up an inside joke from Noct's high school days that had even Ignis struggling to hide his laughter behind his hand.

                There would be moments, though, that gave the Crystal away.

                "So, Prompto, how did your date with that reporter go?" Noctis asked one afternoon they met Gladio and Prompto for lunch. It was apparently a tradition to meet up at least once a week to catch up. Gladio had been the one to schedule this hangout, claiming he felt bad about being so distant during the pregnancy, though he kept checking his phone screen for messages.

                "Ehh?" Prompto winced a little. The blond, or so Ignis had gathered, never seemed to have much luck in the romance department even in the Crystal's perfect reality. "I mean, he was cute, and I totally dug his accent, but he seemed a little too cocky for me."

                "What was his name again? Tito?" Noctis prodded.

                "Dino. Dino Ghiranze, you know, the guy that covered the earthquake in Leide a few years ago…" Prompto trailed off to give Ignis a quizzical glance. "What?"

                Ignis hadn't been able to stop the surprised laughter at hearing Prompto had gone on a date with _Dino_ , of all people. "Sorry."

                "Just because _you_ have a guy to give two bouquets to a week doesn't mean you get to laugh at us losers' love lives," Prompto protested.

                "Yeah, Specs," Noctis said, leaning his chin on his hand with a smirk. "Don't rub it in."

                "I merely didn't think Dino was your type, is all," Ignis said, trying to hide his smile with his cup of coffee. With the amount of times Prompto _still_ brought up how Dino's gem obsession almost got them eaten by a giant bird, he never crossed Ignis's mind as a potential person of interest for the man. This place was full of surprises.

                "Why? Have you even met him?" Prompto asked.

                Oops. "No," Ignis lied, "but I've read his articles, and seen photographs… He _does_ seem a tad cocky." Though he'd mellowed over the years, and his trinkets had actually saved countless civilian lives from daemon attacks. Plus, last he'd heard, he seemed rather taken with Coctura, the chef from the Mother of Pearl restaurant.

                "Wasn't he the guy who wrote about the giant rock turtle?" Gladio briefly looked up from his phone.

                "Yeah!" Prompto's face brightened. "He showed me some pics he didn't put in the article. That thing was _huge_! It was like, bigger than the Citadel! And there are legends about it having this ore that can extend your life by decades. He's big into battle jewelry."

                "Battle jewelry?" Gladio echoed, amused.

                "You know, using gems and ores to give magical properties to accessories and stuff."

                "I believe Crownsguard typically call them 'armor,'" Ignis said.

                Prompto threw a fry at him. "Well, Crownsguard are boring!"

                "You're Crownsguard, Prompto," Noctis reminded him.

                "Oh! That was another reason he was kinda 'ehh' to me. He kept on asking me questions about the Crystal and its properties," Prompto said. "Not that I know that much about it, anyway. But I was getting a little worried he was trying to get information on Noct, so I tried to change the subject."

                Noctis didn't seem too worried by this. "Oh. No wonder Ignis recognized him. He's been cooped up in the library researching the Crystal all week."

                "Really?" Gladio raised his eyebrows at the advisor. "Why?"

                "Well, there's so much we don't know about it," Ignis explained casually. "It's one of Lucis's greatest mysteries, yet it's critical to how we function. It's given us the power of the Armiger and the Wall. It's been known to bestow prophecies on the Kings of Lucis, and is rumored to hold an Astral Realm within its center."

                "And it was literally a gift from the gods," Prompto added. "Not your average diamond."

                "And with its connection to the Ring of the Luci'i, it's no wonder a jeweler like Dino was curious," Gladio said.

                "You know, I've always wondered about that," Prompto said, leaning in. "So, we can all summon from the Armiger and use Noct's magic without the Ring, right? Why does the King need the Ring, then, if we can all just use magic?"

                It was a good question, actually, and one that Ignis had practically memorized the answer to at this point in his research. "The Ring is the reason we all can channel the Crystal's magic in the first place," he explained. "It's the link between the Kings of Lucis and the power bestowed by the gods. The legends say that before the gods fell into their slumber, they gave the Crystal and the Ring to humanity in hopes a worthy human would someday wield them. That worthy human turned out to be the first king of Lucis." Ardyn, ironically, if his tale was to be believed.

                "So, the Ring lets him share the power with other people? Do the other people have to be worthy?" Prompto asked. "Were we all, like, tested by the gods? What if we weren't worthy? Would a lightning bolt strike us out of the blue?"

                "If that were the case," Gladio said, "I've dated at least two glaives who would not be alive today."

                "And who knows if you'd still be here," Noctis teased, earning a shove on the shoulder.

                "I believe you'd only be tested if you put on the Ring yourself," Ignis said softly. "And even if you were deemed worthy, there's always a price."

                He tried not to think of the burning agony that crept up his arm and stole his eyes, tearing screams from his throat as he struggled to make the final image he saw that of Noct's vulnerable form.

                "There's a price for the kings that wear it, too." Noctis muttered. "I'm just glad the Wall got to come down when it did."

                Ignis reached for his hand. It seemed even as King Regis seemed healthier and less burdened by the Ring's power, it was impossible for it not to pain him even a small amount. He wondered how long the Wall was sustained in this timeline: it couldn't have been the thirty years King Regis had truly powered it, given how much stronger the man appeared.

                "You still have to go collect those Royal Arms, you know," Gladio told Noctis. "You've run out of excuses not to."

                "They weren't excuses!" Noctis protested. "First, it was the war, then helping with the treaties, and then the wedding, and then _you_ had to go have a baby..."

                "Yeah, yeah," the Shield waved him off. "Stop whining. I just meant it's a royal tradition."

                " _And_ a bro tradition!" Prompto bounced in his seat. "We should have had a road trip a long time ago! It's a rite of passage!"

                True, it wasn't _all_ bad: camping, driving, and seeing the beautiful new sights of Eos outside the Wall had been fun activities to do together. Yet, the countless dropships of MTs, fretting about finding lodgings before dark, the constant reminder that they had a kingdom to reclaim, and all the deaths that followed them made the otherwise fond memories leave a sour taste in the advisor's mouth.

                "It's not all it's cracked up to be," Ignis said, staring into his cup of coffee. "We'd have to camp in the wilderness, after all."

                "A bit of fresh air would do you city guys some good," Gladio said. "Plus, imagine all the fishing His Highness could do."

                "You know, Gladio? You're right. I _should_ have gotten those Royal Arms by now. Let's go."

                It was so reminiscent of how young and naïve they'd been as they initially set out that Ignis couldn't look up at his companions. He couldn't  see them as anything but their twenty-year-old selves, bright-eyed and scar-free.

                "Hold your chocobos, princess. I'm pregnant."

                A beat, during which Ignis _knew_ Gladio's mistake manifested itself on his face.

                " _You're_ pregnant?" Noctis deadpanned.

                Prompto gasped. "Gladio's pregnant? Oh em gee! I thought he was looking kinda chubby."

                Gladio was not amused. "Hardy har har."

                "Listen to that laughter," Prompto gushed. "He's glowing!"

                "Real funny, guys."

                " _And_ he ordered for two," Noctis added.

                "Hey, weren't we talking about how successful Prompto's date was?" Gladio nudged.

                "Touché." Prompto slumped in his seat.

                "Aw, don't worry, kid." Gladio rubbed the back of his neck, looking a little guilty. "Happens to everyone."

                "Just have to find that diamond in the rough," Noctis consoled him.

                "Or the right wrench in the toolbox," Ignis quipped. It was only when he felt three pairs of eyes giving him befuddled stares that he tacked on at the end, "or so the saying goes."

                "Right," was the wary response of the Crystal's Prompto, who hadn't spent the last decade of his life waxing poetic about a certain mechanic's goodness.

 

-

 

                Their lunch conversation did inspire a new branch of research in Ignis's free time: the Royal Arms of the Kings of Lucis. As Ignis read in several different accounts, only one from the royal line could absorb the power from a king's tomb, although royal arms have been known to be shared by trusted comrades of the king in history. As Gladio had stated, it was a royal tradition to travel the continent and claim them, thought it originally began as a tradition for newly-crowned kings to strengthen their bond with the Ring of the Luci'i.

                Noctis didn't have the ring while obtaining his collection, and, if Ignis's understanding of King Regis's adventures was correct, neither did he. This ability required only the recognition of authority from the Crystal, or so it seemed.

                The Ring, only wielded by the current King, was necessary for larger feats of magic. It was how one could awaken the Old Wall (like Nyx did, if Libertus Ostium's eyewitness account of the fall of Insomnia was to be believed), and it was how Regis had been able to channel such great amounts of magic to uphold the New Wall during Niflheim's sieges. The Ring channeled the Crystal, but royalty could wield the Crystal's magic without it, just not as powerfully.

                And, Ignis mused, it always seemed to be done either way from outside the Crystal. Why the Crystal felt the need to absorb Noctis himself for all these years remained a mystery. No previous ruler had to be _inside_ the rock to gain its magic. Of course, a larger amount of magic than ever before wielded would probably be needed to defeat Ardyn in the final battle. But, given how the Lucis Caelums' magic worked up until this point, wouldn't Noctis only need to channel the large amount of magic through the Ring itself? Why couldn't the Crystal be absorbed into the Ring? What was the need for the Astrals to tear the king away from his people when they needed him the most?

                Why did Noctis have to carry such a large burden? Especially since that was likely how he would…

                It was too much for him to bear. It was too much for _any_ of them to bear. And perhaps it was only due to Ignis's selfish desire to have Noctis alive and well, but it just didn't add up.

                In any case, maybe something was hindering the process of absorbing the Crystal from completing. If Ignis's theory was correct and the Chosen King had to take the entire Crystal into himself, there had to be a snag in the process holding Noct back. But what could it be? Was it the dream of the Crystal and Noct's reluctance to leave? Was it Ardyn, somehow? He _was_ connected to the Crystal. How would they ever be able to know for certain?

                Frustrated, Ignis kept sifting through the _Cosmogony_ volume on his desk. He had some time before he figured little Daisy would stop by for another "report."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to personally thank everyone who kept reading even after the atrocious cheese puns. You are a brave bunch. -salutes-

**Author's Note:**

> (also, this is unbeta-d, so, you know, sorry)


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